He doesn't wait for roasted larks to drop into his mouth--what's that!" It was Ranulph stealing away.
In an instant the two men were on him, and a hand was clapped to his mouth.

In another minute he was bound, thrown onto the stone floor of the bakehouse, his head striking, and he lost consciousness.
When he came to himself, there was absolute silence round him-deathly, oppressive silence.

At first he was dazed, but at length all that had happened came back to him.
Where was he now?
His feet were free; he began to move them about.

He remembered that he had been flung on the stone floor of the bakeroom.
This place sounded hollow underneath--it certainly was not the bakeroom.
He rolled over and over.

Presently he touched a wall--it was stone.