"You don't mean——"
"Yes, dangling head down."
"Dead?"
"Merely knocked out—worse luck! But one way of restoring consciousness is to raise the feet above the head. He may wake up any moment and appreciate the situation."
"Any moment?" cried Carmena. She half dropped her candlestick on the stone floor and sprang to the windlass. "Quick! We must haul him up before he comes to."
Lennon did not budge.
"No, Miss Farley. That beast shall not again set foot in this place until Elsie is safe away."
The girl's eyes widened. Her hand clutched and drew close across her rounded bosom the folds of the blanket that she had flung about her shoulders to cover her night gown. Her face paled and as quickly flushed scarlet.
"I thought I heard sounds in the passage, but the rug curtain muffled them," she murmured. "Was he trying to—to——"
"Had been drinking," replied Lennon. "My regret now is that the blow did not kill him."