I remembered the drumbeats of Annetje’s horse as I reeled from the saddle, and when I came to myself again the first sound that fell on my ear was the sound of a hammer. I was lying on my back on the floor of a dimly lit outhouse. Ten feet away from me two men were making a box. Luckily I had come to my senses quietly and had made no noise to attract their attention. For all the two workmen knew I might be still asleep—or dead, as they doubtless supposed. I made haste to stretch myself in that half sort of way which is as good as none, for I did not really move a muscle; I only strained a little here and there to make sure I was still alive. The effect of the blow that had rendered me unconscious had passed away. Save for the ringing in my ears and the dull heavy pain in the crown of my head, I was all right and my wit was as clear as ever. So soon as I ascertained this fact, and had recollected the fight on the road, I set myself to unravel the present situation. It must have been about sundown, and I soon discovered that the place where I lay was the old disused tannery. One of the two workmen I did not know; the other was Louis Van Ramm. Now for the first time I had a chance to think what his presence here meant. Evidently this attack had been instigated by the patroon—how otherwise could the dwarf be mixed up in it? But what part was he really playing? Were all his protestations of the morning false, or had he joined them only to hinder the execution of their plans? Then I remembered that it was his blow that had struck me down. I cursed him in my heart for it; but I was soon to learn that I was unjust in this suspicion. However, despite my efforts to be still, I soon made a slight noise. “My God!” cried the workman. “Was that him?” “Couldn’t be,” replied Louis. “But I’ll look again and make sure.” He dropped his hammer and came mincing to my side. As he bent over me I opened my eyes and looked square into his face. He hissed between his teeth for silence and laid his clumsy hand over my mouth for an instant. Then he got up and rejoined his companion. “He’s as dead as a rock, and getting stiff. No fear of him, Barker.” “If he’s dead,” returned Barker, “devil a fear have I. I’ll risk his ghost.” Then he added after a pause: “I hope we shall get out of here before night.” “Little chance of that,” said Louis. “This is not a job the patroon will have finished in daylight.” “Is he coming himself to see us bury him?” “Yes. Get to work. This isn’t much of a coffin; but, such as it is, it must be finished against his coming back.”