Having spent nearly an hour on the Hog’s Back, experimenting with his new wireless receiving-set, he packed it up, descended the hill to the station, and was on the platform when the train from Waterloo came in.
Barclay, however, was not among the alighting passengers.
There being another train a quarter of an hour later, he decided to await it, and strolled out into the station yard. He had just lit a cigarette and was gazing around when he noticed a big limousine car approach and draw up opposite the booking-office. The chauffeur, descending, approached him, touched his cap, and said:
“Excuse me, sir. Are you Mr Homfray?”
“That’s my name,” Roddy replied.
“Oh, Mr Barclay has sent me for you, sir. He’s at the Lion Hotel here. He’s got a business engagement, and is sorry he couldn’t come along.”
“Right,” answered the young man, crossing to the car, the windows of which were closed. The man opened the door politely and he entered, but as soon as he sat down he heard a strange hissing noise and felt a want of air. He gasped, his eyes burned, and the next second the darkness of unconsciousness fell upon him and he knew no more. The car had, in the seat, a bellows which, as he sat upon it, blew out a poisonous gas. Of what happened afterwards he had no knowledge.
When slowly and painfully he regained his senses and became aware of his surroundings, he found himself in a small bare room with a stone floor. He was lying upon some old sacking, while near by, close to the door, stood a plate that had evidently contained food and a broken brown jug with some water, while in close vicinity was his raincoat, which had apparently been flung into a corner.
High up in the thick wall was a small window, not more than six inches square. There was no glass in it, so it gave both light and ventilation.
He was too weak to move, and his hand, coming into contact with his chin, he was surprised to find that, though usually shaven, he had a growth of beard. Could he have lain there for some days in a state of semi-consciousness?