He had returned safely, with an ancient musket, a bag of bullets, a petroleum squirt, and a small bundle of pole-axes, and was making his tour of the defenses, when he stumbled over Rudolph, who knelt on the ground under what in old days had been the chapel, and near what now was Kempner's grave.
He was not kneeling in devotion, for he took Heywood by the arm, and made him stoop.
"I was coming," he said, "to find you.

The first night, I saw coolies working in the clay-pit.

Bend, a moment over.

Put now the ear close." Heywood laid his cheek in the dust.
"They're keeping such a racket outside," he muttered; and then, half to himself: "It certainly is.

Rudie, it's--it's as if poor Kempner were--waking up." He listened again.