bank, and with the police whistle which I carried I could, if
necessary, summon one of the men in hiding across the stream. I
waited. A wild-fowl floated serenely past, untroubled by this strange
invasion of his precincts. A full minute I waited. From the lane
behind me came Smith's voice:

"Don't let him escape, Petrie!"

Never lifting my eyes from the water, I waved my hand reassuringly.
But still the dacoit did not rise. I searched the surface in all
directions as far as my eyes could reach; but no swimmer showed above
it. Then it was that I concluded he had dived too deeply, become
entangled in the weeds and was drowned. With a final glance to right
and left and some feeling of awe at this sudden tragedy--this grim
going out of a life at glorious noonday--I turned away. Smith had the
woman securely; but I had not taken five steps towards him when a faint
splash behind warned me. Instinctively I ducked. From whence that
saving instinct arose I cannot surmise, but to it I owed my life. For
as I rapidly lowered my head, something hummed past me, something that
flew out over the grass bank, and fell with a jangle upon the dusty
roadside. A knife!

I turned and bounded back to the river's brink. I heard a faint cry
behind me, which could only have come from the gypsy woman. Nothing
disturbed the calm surface of the water. The reach was lonely of
rowers. Out by the farther bank a girl was poling a punt along, and
her white-clad figure was the only living thing that moved upon the
river within the range of the most expert knife-thrower.

To say that I was nonplused is to say less than the truth; I was
amazed. That it was the dacoit who had shown me this murderous
attention I could not doubt. But where in Heaven's name WAS he? He
could not humanly have remained below water for so long; yet he
certainly was not above, was not upon the surface, concealed amongst
the reeds, nor hidden upon the bank.

There, in the bright sunshine, a consciousness of the eerie possessed
me. It was with an uncomfortable feeling that my phantom foe might be
aiming a second knife at my back that I turned away and hastened
towards Smith. My fearful expectations were not realized, and I picked
up the little weapon which had so narrowly missed me, and with it in my
hand rejoined my friend.

He was standing with one arm closely clasped about the apparently
exhausted woman, and her dark eyes were fixed upon him with an
extr