"Have you found it?" said one.
"Not a sign of it," said another.
"But the fellow hath it: we must get it out of him somehow."
"He hath not, I tell you. I've searched him to the skin. This was easy, for the fall knocked all life out of him. He lies like a man dead."
"Surely, we've not killed him?"
"No, he breathes."
"Then ask him where he put it, and threaten to flog him alive if he will not tell you."
"A good thought. I say there—wake up!" and he shook me violently.
By this time my senses had come back to me sufficiently to know that I should learn most by holding my peace. I therefore continued to lie like a man dead.
"I say, you Rashcliffe, speak up. It's to your advantage, man," the man continued.