I heard no more. Something struck me, enveloped me, and there was an end. I am not very sure when a new beginning happened. Perhaps it is only an after consideration which makes me remember a whirring sound in my ears, and a certain swinging motion, and a murmur which was soothing. I am quite sure of the pain which subsequently came to me. My head was big with it, my limbs twisted with it. I was conscious of nothing else for a period to which I cannot place limits. Then there was fire in my throat. I was sitting in the angle of a wall, on the floor; at a little distance from me was a light which presently resolved itself into a candle stuck in the neck of a bottle. There were moving shadows--I saw them, I think, before I was conscious of the man and woman who made them. The man had just poured brandy down my throat, the girl, with her arms akimbo, watched him. "He'll do now," said the man. "Can't see why we take such trouble to keep death away," was the woman's answer. "Are you in love with the hangman?" The girl laughed, caught up the bottle, making the shadows dance like a delirium, then I slipped back into darkness again. All kinds of things came into my mind after that, disordered dreams, and then I heard my name. "Wigan! Wigan!" I was still sitting in an angle of a wall, trussed like a fowl, but I was awake. "Is that you, Professor?" "No more hooligan clubs, Wigan." "What happened?" "I remember turning a corner," Quarles answered, "and I woke up here. We were sandbagged, or something of the kind, and serves us right. If we wanted to follow any one we ought to have followed the man and woman. Can you drag yourself over to this corner? We can talk quietly then." It was rather a painful and lengthy operation, but I fancy the effort did me good. My brain was clearer, I began to grip things again. "Where are we?" I said. "Locked in a cellar, but where I do not know. We're lucky to be no worse off, and probably I'm especially lucky in not having been sandbagged by the man who dealt with you. He would probably have closed my account, for he must have hit you a tremendous blow. I had come to myself before the man and woman brought you brandy. I just moved to show I wasn't dead and watched them." "You'll know them again." "They both wore masks. About this chalice, Wigan." "No doubt we've hurried it into the melting pot," I returned. "I've been half asleep since our friend left us, but I've done some thinking, too. Reminded of my empty room by this cellar, I expect. There are one or two curious points about this chalice." "Are they worth considering--now?"