Farnsworth did not tell Hamilton or any other person about what the priest had done to him, but nursed his sore ribs and his wrath, waiting patiently for the revenge that he meant soon to take.
Alice heard from Adrienne the story of Farnsworth's conduct and his humiliating discomfiture at the hands of Father Beret.

She was both indignant and delighted, sympathizing with Adrienne and glorying in the priest's vigorous pugilistic achievement.
"Well," she remarked, with one of her infectious trills of laughter, "so far the French have the best of it, anyway! Papa Roussillon knocked the Governor's cheek nearly off, then Rene cracked the Irish Corporal's head, and now Father Beret has taught Captain Farnsworth a lesson in fisticuffs that he'll not soon forget! If the good work can only go on a little longer we shall see every English soldier in Vincennes wearing the mark of a Frenchman's blow." Then her mood suddenly changed from smiling lightness to almost fierce gravity, and she added: "Adrienne Bourcier, if Captain Farnsworth ever offers to treat me as he did you, mark my words, I'll kill him--kill him, indeed I will! You ought to see me!" "But he won't dare touch you," said Adrienne, looking at her friend with round, admiring eyes.

"He knows very well that you are not little and timid like me.

He'd be afraid of you." "I wish he would try it.

How I would love to shoot him into pieces, the hateful wretch! I wish he would." The French inhabitants all, or nearly all, felt as Alice did; but at present they were helpless and dared not say or do anything against the English.