After having his early morning breakfast at The Wishing Well , Peter strode out briskly up the road , making sure that he would not be late for the job at the manor , though he still had plenty of time to get there .

He was occupied with his thoughts , wondering a little why the Lady , whom he was now coming to think of more as Helen than as the Lady , had so suddenly become distant the afternoon before . Perhaps I should practise a little of the forelock tugging he thought to himself , and almost burst out laughing at the thought . Nevertheless he put his hand up and tugged at his hair for a practice run and since he had his head down as he did so , he almost bumped into a large man who stood aggressively in his way .

-- You ! said the man .

Peter looked him up and down coolly .

-- Me ? said Peter .

-- Sorry I got in the way , I was thinking....

-- You work for that new bitch up at the Manor ? the man interrupted as his aggression was obviously growing more and more .

-- Not that it's any of your business , said Peter , but in fact I do.

And then he went to move past .

The man put out a hand and grasped his arm .

-- Well you tell her from me that she's going to be bloody sorry .

-- Is she now ? said Peter levelly .

-- But in the meantime , you get your hand off me .

-- Yes, the man went on ,

-- and if you start giving lip , you'll be sorry too.

-- Will I ? said Peter .

He could feel his normally quiescent temper beginning to rise .

-- You must be the bow-legged night walker that they were talking about in the cafe . It looks like you got what you deserved .

The man took his hand off Peter's arm and pushed at his chest .

-- Cheeky bloody Australian git , he growled , and swung a punch at Peter .

He was still under the influence of the grog , and the blow was easily dodged , but he looked as if he was going to go on swinging . He was a much bigger , heavier man than Peter and Peter hoped to avoid any physical violence .

-- Go home and sleep it off , he said , controlling his anger .

-- I'm not interested in fighting . And I won't hit a drunk.

-- No ? sneered the man , still swinging aggressively as Peter dodged again.

Then one blow grazed Peter's face , and his anger boiled up .

-- No , I wouldn't hit a drunk . But I'm happy to kick him .

And with a quick twisting movement Peter delivered a non too gentle kick to the bigger man's groin.

The man went down gasping obscenities .

-- I'll have the law on you , he groaned .

-- Oh . I doubt that , came a cool voice from behind Peter.

Turning , he saw the young constable behind him .

-- I think I'd better get him to the Station , said Robert .

-- It'll give him a chance to sober up and recover . I saw it all , and he'll be lucky to get off with a charge of drunk and disorderly.

He grinned at Peter .

-- Best scarper , he said .

-- One good turn deserves another .

He winked at Peter and heaved the still groaning man to his feet .

-- If this happens to you much more , Big Jim , he addressed the staggering victim ,

-- you'll be turning into a jockey .

And then as they departed , Peter went whistling on his own way .