"Oh, murder!" shouted Macey, as he rose to the surface, and struck out
after the boat, which he reached, and held on by the keel.
Gilmore swam after him, and was soon alongside, while Vane made for the
bank, climbed out, stood up dripping, and roaring with laughter.
"Hi! Gil!--Aleck, bring her ashore," he cried.
"All right!" came back; but almost simultaneously Vane shouted again, in
a tone full of horror:--
"Here, both of you--Distin--where's Distin?"
He ran along the bank as he spoke, gazing down into the river, but
without seeing a sign of that which he sought.
Macey's heart sank within him, as, for the first time, the real
significance of that which he had done in carefully guiding the rower on
to the old rotten pile came home. A cold chill ran through him, and,
for the moment, he clung, speechless and helpless, to the drifting boat.
But Vane soon changed all that.
"Here, you!" he yelled, "get that boat ashore, turn her over, and come
to me--"
As he spoke, he ran to and fro upon the bank for a few moments, but,
seeing nothing, he paused opposite a deep-looking place, and plunged in,
to begin swimming about, raising his head at every stroke, and searching
about him, but searching in vain, for their companion, who, as far as he
knew, had not risen again to the surface.
Meanwhile, Gilmore and Macey tried their best to get the boat ashore,
and, after struggling for a few minutes in the shallow close under the
bank, they managed to right her, but not without leaving a good deal of
water in the bottom. Still she floated as they climbed in and thrust
her off, but only for Gilmore to utter a groan of dismay as he grasped
the helplessness of their situation.
"No oars--no oars!" he cried; and, standing up in the stern, he plunged
into the water again, to swim toward where he could see Vane's head.
"What have I done--what have I done!" muttered Macey, wildly. "Oh, poor
chap, if he should be drowned!"
For a moment he hesitated about following Gilmore, but, as he swept the
water with his eyes, he caught sight of something floating, and, sitting
down, he used one hand as a paddle, trying to get the boat toward the
middle of the river to intercept the floating object, which he had seen
to be one of the oars.
Vane heard the loud splash, and saw that Gilmore was swimming to his
help, then he kept on, looking to right and left in search of their
companion; but everywhere there was the eddying water gliding along, and
bearing him with it.
For a time he had breasted the current, trying to get toward the deeps
where the bridge had stood, but he could make no way, and, concluding
from this that Distin would have floated down too, he kept on his weary,
useless search till Gilmore swam up abreast.
"Haven't seen him?" panted the latter, hoarsely. "Shall we go lower?"
"No," cried Vane; "there must be an eddy along there. Let's go up
again."
They swam ashore, climbed out on to the bank, and, watching the surface
as they ran, they made for the spot where the well-paved road had
crossed the bridge.
Here they stood in silence for a few moments, and Gilmore was about to
plunge in again, but Vane stopped him.
"No, no," he cried, breathing heavily the while; "that's of no use.
Wait till we see him rise--if he is here," he added with a groan.
The sun shone brightly on the calm, clear water which here looked black
and deep, and after scanning it for some time Vane said quickly--
"Look! There, just beyond that black stump."
"No; there is nothing there but a deep hole."
"Yes, but the water goes round and round there, Gil; that must be the
place."
He was about to plunge in, but it was Gilmore's turn to arrest him.
"No, no; it would be no use."
"Yes; I'll dive down."
"But there are old posts and big stones, I daren't let you go."
"Ah!" shouted Vane wildly; "look--look!"
He shook himself free and plunged in as Gilmore caught sight of
something close up to the old piece of blackened oak upon which Macey
had so cleverly steered the boat. It was only a glimpse of something
floating, and then it was gone; and he followed Vane, who was swimming
out to the old post. This he reached before Gilmore was half-way, swam
round for a few moments, and then paddled like a dog, rose as high as he
could, turned over and dived down into the deep black hole.
In a few moments he was up again to take a long breath and dive once
more.
This time he was down longer, and Gilmore held on by the slimy post,
gazing about with staring eyes, and prepared himself to dive down after
his friend, when all at once, Vane's white face appeared, and one arm
was thrust forth to give a vigorous blow upon the surface.
"Got him," he cried in a half-choked voice, "Gil, help!"
Gilmore made for him directly, and as he reached his companion's side
the back of Distin's head came to the surface, and Gilmore seized him by
his long black hair.
Their efforts had taken them out of the eddy into the swift stream once
more, and they began floating down; Vane so confused and weak from his
efforts that he could do nothing but swim feebly, while his companion
made some effort to keep Distin's face above water and direct him toward
the side.
An easy enough task at another time, for it only meant a swim of some
fifty yards, but with the inert body of Distin, and Vane so utterly
helpless that he could barely keep himself afloat, Gilmore had hard
work, and, swim his best, he could scarcely gain a yard toward the
shore. Very soon he found that he was exhausting himself by his efforts
and that it would be far better to go down the stream, and trust to
getting ashore far lower down, though, at the same time, a chilly
feeling of despair began to dull his energies, and it seemed hopeless to
think of getting his comrade ashore alive.
All the same, though, forced as the words sounded, he told Vane hoarsely
that it was all right, and that they would soon get to the side.
Vane only answered with a look--a heavy, weary, despairing look--which
told how thoroughly he could weigh his friend's remark, as he held on
firmly by Distin and struck out slowly and heavily with the arm at
liberty.
There was no doubt about Vane's determination. If he had loosed his
hold of Distin, with two arms free he could have saved himself with
comparative ease, but that thought never entered his head, as they
floated down the river, right in the middle now, and with the trees
apparently gliding by them and the verdure and water-growth gradually
growing confused and dim. To Vane all now seemed dreamlike and strange.
He was in no trouble--there was no sense of dread, and the despair of a
few minutes before was blunted, as with his body lower in the water,
which kept rising now above his lips, he slowly struggled on.