In the darkness it was impossible to see a hand before one, but Jack moved forward, revolver in hand, without fear.
“Who’s here?” he demanded, first in French and then in German.
There was no reply, and the lad repeated the question, continuing to walk further up the dark alley.
And then, before the lad could raise a hand to prevent it, something the nature of which he could not distinguish in the brief moment before he lapsed into unconsciousness, struck him over the head. Jack fell to the ground without so much as a murmur.
There was silence again in the alley, at last broken by an exclamation from Frank, as he moved slowly forward.
“Jack! Are you all right?” he demanded.
“Jack!” exclaimed Frank again. “Are you there?”
Again there was no reply and Frank became greatly alarmed. Thinking only of his friend, and forgetful of his own safety, the lad sprang forward.
In the darkness he tripped over a prostrate form at the same moment that a blow, the exact counterpart of the one that had laid Jack low, struck him upon the head.
Frank also crumpled up without a word.