"I thought--"

What he thought I never heard, for the whole room suddenly went dim,
and with a quick lurch the floor seemed to get up and spin round
beneath my feet. I suppose I must have pitched forward, for the last
thing I remember is clutching wildly but vainly at the corner of the
kitchen table.

* * * * *

My first sensation on coming round was a burning feeling in my lips
and throat. Then I suddenly realized that my mouth was full of brandy,
and with a surprised gulp I swallowed it down and opened my eyes.

I was lying back in a low chair with a cushion under my head. Standing
in front of me was the gentleman in the dressing-gown, only instead of
a revolver he now held an empty wine-glass in his hand. When he saw
that I was recovering he stepped back and placed it on the table.
There was a short pause.

"Well, Mr. Lyndon," he said slowly, "and how are you feeling now?"

A hasty glance down showed me that the jacket of my overalls had been
unbuttoned at the neck, exposing the soaked and mud-stained prison
clothes beneath. I saw that the game was up, but for the moment I was
too exhausted to care.

My captor leaned against the end of the table watching me closely.

"Are you feeling any better?" he repeated.

I made a feeble attempt to raise myself in the chair. "I don't know,"
I said weakly; "I'm feeling devilish hungry."

He stepped forward at once, his lined face breaking into something
like a smile.

"Don't sit up. Lie quite still where you are, and I will get you
something to eat. Have you had any food today?"

I shook my head. "Only rain-water," I said.

"You had better start with some bread and milk, then. You have been
starving too long to eat a big meal straight away."

Crossing the room, he pushed open a door which apparently led into the
larder, and then paused for a moment on the threshold.

"You needn't try to escape," he added, turning back to me. "I am not
going to send for the police."

"I don't care what you do," I whispered, "as long as you hurry up with
some grub."

Lying there in the sort of semi-stupor that comes from utter
exhaustion, I listened to him moving about in the larder apparently
getting things ready. For the moment all thoughts of danger or
recapture had ceased to disturb me. Even the unexpected fashion
in which I was being treated did not strike me as particularly
interesting or surprising: my whole being was steeped in a sense of