"Good-bye, Mr. West," he said, in a low voice, pausing an instant on the threshold. "Good-bye, an' think o' me." Then he shut the door, and Allan heard him dragging the empty chair heavily across the other room. He swung open the outside door, bumped the chair down the steps, then came up again and closed the door carefully. A moment later, there came the rattle of wheels and the quick clatter of horses' hoofs; the noise died away down the road and all was still. Allan's head was aching horribly from the injuries which he had received and from the position in which he lay, and he managed finally, by a mighty effort, to twist himself over on his side. He struggled to get his hands free, but they had been bound too tightly--so tightly, indeed, that his wrists were chafed and swollen and his hands were numb. Nor could he free himself from the chair. The rope, apparently a piece of ordinary clothes-line, which held him fast to it, was knotted firmly at the back, hopelessly beyond his reach. When he had satisfied himself of this, he lay still again, in the easiest posture he could assume. After all, he had only to possess his soul in patience, and help would come. The attack, he thought, must have taken place about half-past ten, and it must now be after eleven. The regular passenger-train would be along shortly before twelve, bringing his relief; he could not fail to be discovered then. He had only to lie still for less than an hour. Perhaps not so long. A freight would probably precede the passenger. Or it might be that the message he had sent to headquarters before he was snatched away from his instrument would bring help more promptly still. Perhaps they were even now sending him a message of encouragement. He listened, but heard no sound. Then he remembered that he had not heard the instrument for a long time. He decided that when he was jerked away from it, he had left the key open. That would tell them even more surely that something was wrong. As long as his key remained open, the entire line was out of service, and an investigation would follow in short order. Yes, he would soon be found. And a great weariness settled upon him. He fought against it for a time; but his eyelids drooped and drooped. He had had a hard day, and a hard night. Tired nature could endure no more. His eyes closed. He dreamed that he was upon the topmost pinnacle of a great mountain. Around him on all sides the rock fell away in abrupt and impassable precipices. How he had reached that spot he did not know; still less, how he would be able to leave it safely. He could not see the precipices, for everything was dark around him, but he felt that they were there. The darkness was absolute--no night he had ever known had been so dark. There were no stars in the sky, no moon, and yet it seemed to him that the sky was very near. And the silence frightened him.