the recollection.

"And I suppose they kept you there for a time to recover?"

"Yes; I went into dry dock in the O. P. room, and then old Langdale
insisted on my lying down for an hour or so in case any symptoms of
concussion should appear. But I was only a trifle shaken and confused.
Still, it was a queer affair."

"You mean the man pushing you down in that way?"

"Yes; I can't make out how his foot got in front of mine."

"You don't think it was intentional, surely?" I said.

"No, of course not," he replied, but without much conviction, as it
seemed to me; and I was about to pursue the matter when Polton
reappeared, and my friend abruptly changed the subject.

After dinner I recounted my conversation with Walter Hornby, watching my
colleague's face with some eagerness to see what effect this new
information would produce on him. The result was, on the whole,
disappointing. He was interested, keenly interested, but showed no
symptoms of excitement.

"So John Hornby has been plunging in mines, eh?" he said, when I had
finished. "He ought to know better at his age. Did you learn how long he
had been in difficulties?"

"No. But it can hardly have been quite sudden and unforeseen."