‘Now the hurricane lamp and that candle. I’ve a notion,’ said Alleyn grimly, as he hunted for them, ‘that they’ll be in order this time. Wrap his feet up, won’t you?’

‘This place is as cold as a morgue,’ Markins complained. ‘Not meaning anything unpleasant by the comparison.’

The lantern and home-made candlestick were in their places on the wall. Alleyn took them down, lit them, and brought them over to Fabian. Markins built a stack of bales over him and slid a folded sack under his head.

‘He’s not losing blood,’ he said. ‘What about his breathing, Mr Alleyn?’

‘All right, I think. The handkerchief, my handkerchief it is, was only a preliminary measure, I imagine. You saved his life, Markins.’

‘I did?’

‘I hope so. If you hadn’t called out—perhaps not though. Perhaps when this expert fetched the bag in here and had a look at—It all depends on whether Losse recognized his assailant.’

‘By God, I hope he did, Mr Alleyn.’

‘And, by God, I’m afraid he didn’t.’

Alleyn pushed his hand under the bales and groped for Fabian’s wrist. ‘His pulse seems not too bad,’ he said presently, and a moment later, ‘He’d been to the annexe.’

‘How do you get that, sir?’

Alleyn drew out his hand and held up a flat cigarette case. ‘Mine. He went up there to fetch it. It was in the pocket.’

‘What’s our next move?’

Alleyn stared at Fabian’s face. The eyes were not quite closed. Fabian knitted his brows. His lips moved as if to articulate, but no sound came from them. ‘Yes,’ Alleyn muttered, ‘what’s best to do?’

‘Fetch the Captain?’

‘If I was sure he’d be all right, we’d fetch nobody. But we can’t be sure of that. We can’t risk it. No, don’t rouse them yet, down at the house. Go first of all to the men’s hut and check their numbers. What they are doing and how long they’ve been at it. Be quick about this. They’ll probably be in bed. Then go on up to the cottage and tell them there’s been an accident. No more than that. Ask them for hot-water bottles and blankets, and something that will do as a stretcher. Ask Mr Johns—and Cliff—to come here. Then use their telephone and try to get through somehow to Mr Losse’s doctor for instructions.’

‘The bureau won’t open till the morning, Mr Alleyn.’

‘Damn. Then we’ll have to use our common sense. Away you go, Markins. And’—Alleyn raised his head and looked at Markins—‘just say an accident. I want Cliff to come with his father and with you. And if he’s there when you go in, watch him.’

Markins slipped out of the door.