It was some time before he felt any desire to rise, and when he finally did so, he found himself weaker than he had anticipated.
"The coward!" was the young machinist's comment. "To strike me unawares. I knew he disliked me, but hasn't he wronged me enough already?"
Jack did not know--nor, indeed, could he have understood--the bitter hatred the Irishman bore him.
The only pride of Andy Mosey's life was his bull pup and his son Mike, and to have the young machinist occupying a position he thought his son should have, had always been more than this hot-tempered fellow was inclined to bear.
The place in which Jack found himself was totally dark, whether because it had no windows, or because it was night, he could not tell.
He groped around, and seeing a ray of light coming up from beneath, applied his eye to what proved to be a knot-hole in the floor.
He was surprised to find the river flowing directly below, and knew at once that he was in the lowest part of the old mill, opposite the ancient wheel.
"They must have carried me here," he said to himself. "I wonder how long ago?"
He felt his way along the walls, and at last reached the door. He was on the point of lifting the latch, when it was thrown open, and by the the rays of a lantern that at first dazzled him, he saw himself confronted by Dennis Corrigan and Andy Mosey.
"So ye'v cum to yer sinses at last, have ye?" was Mosey's greeting, as he set down the lantern. "Ye wint down moighty easy, so ye did."