a toy, in fact, the sport of all his life. Often
before had pistol-shots whistled about his head, and under
circumstances far more dangerous than this. Obed's life had been a
varied one, and he could tell many strange tales of adventures in the
western parts of America--that country where civilized man has
encountered, and can still encounter, those tribes which are his most
formidable foes. If at that moment Obed could have bared his mighty
body to plunge into the Arno, he could have exhibited a vast number
of old scars from wounds which had been received in Kansas, in
California, and in Mexico. But Obed had not time to bare his mighty
body. As those last pistol-shots flashed before him he had not time
even to wink his eyes, but rushing on with unabated vigor, he reached
the river's bank, and in a moment had plunged in after Gualtier.

The fugitive heard that plunge. He heard behind him the quick strokes
of a strong swimmer, and then he knew and felt that all was lost.
Upon that last chance he had staked every thing, and that last chance
had failed utterly. This man who had insulted him, bullied him, and
overpowered him--this man who had been impervious to his shots on the
road and on the river-bank--this man who had gained on him steadily
in that desperate race for life which he had run--this demon of a man
was now gaining on him in the water also! If his pursuer had stood on
the bank and had shot him, he might have received the wound and sank
to death without a murmur. But to be followed so, to be caught, to be
dragged back--this was the terror and the shame. This stimulated him
to fiercer exertions. Despair itself gave a kind of madness to his
efforts. But terror and shame and despair itself could not snatch him
from the grasp of his remorseless pursuer. Nearer and nearer that
pursuer came; more and more desperate grew Gualtier's efforts. In
vain. As he struck out with almost superhuman exertions he suddenly
felt his foot grasped by a resistless hand. All was over. That
despair which a moment before had intensified his efforts now relaxed
his strength. He felt himself dragged back to the shore from which he
had been flying. He was lost! He struggled no longer to escape, but
only to keep his head above water, from an instinct of
self-preservation. And in that anguish of fear and despair that now
settled upon his soul he had a vague terror that on the moment of
landing he would be annihilated.

But, instead of that,