Then I proceeded to go off into
an old-fashioned swoon.
I woke with a burning head and the sun glaring in my face. For a
long time I lay motionless, for those horrible fumes seemed to have
loosened my joints and dulled my brain. Sounds came to me from
the house--men speaking throatily and the throbbing of a stationary
car. There was a little gap in the parapet to which I wriggled, and
from which I had some sort of prospect of the yard. I saw figures
come out--a servant with his head bound up, and then a younger
man in knickerbockers. They were looking for something, and
moved towards the mill. Then one of them caught sight of the wisp
of cloth on the nail, and cried out to the other. They both went
back to the house, and brought two more to look at it. I saw the
rotund figure of my late captor, and I thought I made out the man
with the lisp. I noticed that all had pistols.
For half an hour they ransacked the mill. I could hear them
kicking over the barrels and pulling up the rotten planking. Then
they came outside, and stood just below the dovecot arguing
fiercely. The servant with the bandage was being soundly rated. I
heard them fiddling with the door of the dovecote and for one
horrid moment I fancied they were coming up. Then they thought
better of it, and went back to the house.
All that long blistering afternoon I lay baking on the rooftop.
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