"Kennedy!" shouted Sir Lionel, "get the Rolls-Royce out! Put your horse up here, my man, and come with us!"
He turned abruptly … as the groom, grasping at the wall, fell heavily to the floor.
"Good God!" I cried—"What's the matter with him?"
I bent over the prostrate man, making a rapid examination.
"His head! A nasty blow. Give me a hand, Sir Lionel; we must get him on to a couch."
The unconscious man was laid upon a Chesterfield, and, ably assisted by the explorer, who was used to coping with such hurts as this, I attended to him as best I could. One of the men-servants had been aroused, and, just as he appeared in the doorway, I had the satisfaction of seeing Dr. Hamilton's groom open his eyes, and look about him, dazedly.
"Quick," I said. "Tell me—what hurt you?"
The man raised his hand to his head and groaned feebly.
"Something came whizzing, sir," he answered. "There was no report, and I saw nothing. I don't know what it can have been——"
"Where did this attack take place?"