and out rigidly. Then one hand was loosened, and caught nervously
at a lower round--then the other hand followed, and thus by degrees the
pupil went under the surface, when his helmet appeared like a large
round ball of light enveloped in the milky-way of air-bubbles that rose
from it.

"You'd better give the signal to ask if all's right," said Edgar, who
felt a little anxious.

"Do so," said Baldwin, nodding to the assistant.

The man obeyed, but no answering signal was returned.

According to rule they should instantly have hauled the diver up, but
Baldwin bade them delay a moment.

"I'm quite sure there's nothing wrong," he said, stooping over the side
of the barge, and gazing into the water, "it's only another touch of
nervousness.--Ah! I see him, holdin' on like a barnacle to the ladder,
afraid to let go. He'll soon tire of kickin' there--that's it: there he
goes down the rope like the best of us."

In another moment the life-line and air-pipe ceased to run out, and then
the assistant gave one pull on the line. Immediately there came back
_one pull_--all right.

"_That's_ all right," repeated Baldwin; "now the ice is fairly broken,
and we'll soon see how he's going to get on."

In order that we too may see that more comfortably, you and I, reader,
will again go under water and watch him. We will also listen to him,
for Rooney has a convenient habit of talking to himself, and neither
water nor helmet can prevent _us_ from overhearing.

True to his instructions, the pupil proceeded to fasten his clew-line to
the stone at the foot of the ladder-rope, and attempted to kneel.

"Well, well," he said, "did ye iver! What would me mother say if she
heard I couldn't git on my knees whin I tried to?"

Rooney began this remark aloud, but the sound of his own voice was so
horribly loud and unnaturally near that he finished off in a whisper,
and continued his observations in that confidential tone.

"Och! Is it dancin' yer goin' to do, Rooney?--in the day-time too!" he
whispered, as his feet slowly left the bottom. "Howld on, man!"

He made a futile effort to stoop and grasp the mud, then, bethinking
himself of Baldwin's instructions, he remembered that too much air had a
tendency to bring him to the surface, and that opening the front-valve
was the remedy. He was not much too soon in recollecting this, for,
besides rising, he was beginning to feel a singing in his head and a
disagreeable pressure on the