And as he threw it up, and as the heavy blow fell, the old, rotten railing against which Stoner had leant so nonchalantly, gave way, and he fell back through it, and across the brow of the quarry--and without a sound.

Mallalieu heard the crash of his stick on his victim's temples; he heard the rending and crackling of the railings--but he heard neither cry, nor sigh, nor groan from Stoner.

Stoner fell backward and disappeared--and then (it seemed an age in coming) Mallalieu's frightened senses were aware of a dull thud somewhere far down in the depths into which he had fallen.

Then came silence--deep, heavy silence--broken at last by the cry of a curlew flying across the lonely moor.
Mallalieu was seized with a trembling fit.

He began to shake.