omehow
wandered back towards it, and would another step take me over into the
water? I shrank from the thought of that cold plunge, and, putting out
my stick on all sides, tapped and tapped, and went on foot by foot. I
was still upon the stone, when I should have reached the sheds, or at
least have got upon the earth again, with the roadway running to the
gates. Angry at my own folly for lingering so long about the ships, I
continued cautiously forward, trying each step of the way. Presently I
heard a sound of footsteps before me, and then a voice raised in a
stave of song. There followed a loud oath and the splash of a heavy
body in water.

Plainly the basin was, then, in front of me, and some one had fallen
in. The poor wretch was doomed to drown in that horrid and impenetrable
darkness. I shuddered at the thought of that fate, and moved faster
under the whip of impulse. The next moment I brought sharply up against
a stone post by which ships were warped in and fastened. Below was the
water, and now I could hear the sound of splashing, and a voice raised
in a cry of terror. Round the post was coiled a heavy rope which I
loosened as rapidly as was possible and began to lower over the edge of
the basin.

"This way," I called; "make this way. Here is the pier," but the
splashing continued, and a smother of sound came to me, as if the
swimmer were under water, and his voice stifled. Almost without
thinking, I gripped the thick, tarry rope and let myself over the
basin, until I had reached the surface of the water.

"This way," I called; "if you can get here, I can save you."

The noise seemed to come from some little distance out, and now I was
in the water myself, with the cable in my hand, striking out feverishly
and awkwardly in the direction of the struggling man. I came upon him
in a dozen strokes, and the first news I had of him was a kick in the
shoulder that almost tore me from my rope. The next moment I had him by
the collar and without more ado was retracing my way, towing a violent
mass of humanity behind me. It was only by dint of hard work and by
propping him in my arms that I at last landed him on the pier, and then
I succeeded in following myself, very sore and stiff and cold.

The first words that sprang from the prostrate figure on the quay were
some incoherent oaths, which ultimately took form. "Curse Legrand,
curse him!"

"Come," said I; "if you are well enough to swear you are well enough to
tr