Burr Junior Part 15

At last my mind was made up. I would get my knees on the penstock again, and then by main force drag him out, at all events into a sitting position, where I could hold him against the post while he recovered sufficiently to walk to the sh.o.r.e.

I waited a few moments, and then began, but to my horror found that my feet glided over the slimy, rotten woodwork of the piles beneath the water, and that I could get no hold anywhere. If I could have had my hands free for a few moments, it would have been easy enough, but I dared not let go of him, and, after a brief and weakening struggle, I gave up, and hung over panting, with for the only result the feeling that the water was now farther up my legs than before.

I soon got my breath again, and made a fresh effort, but with a worse result, and this was repeated till a chilly sensation of dread ran through me, and I felt half stunned at the horror of my position.

Then I recovered a little. "Mercer," I said, "do you feel rested now?"

He did not speak, only looked at me in a curious, half vacant way, and I shivered, for this was, I felt sure, the first step toward his losing consciousness and loosening his hold.

"I say," I cried, "don't give up like that. You've got to climb up on to these boards. I'm going to help you, but I can't unless you help me too."

There was no reply, only the same fixed stare in his dilated eyes, and in my horror I looked wildly round at the place I had thought so beautiful, but which was now all terrible to me, and felt how utterly we were away from help.

I began again, twining my legs now about the nearest post, and this enabled me to hold on, but I could get up no farther. I tried, though, to drag Mercer on to the woodwork, but my position crippled me, and I should have required double the muscular power I possessed.

I believe I made other trials, but a curious sensation of weakness and confusion was coming over me, as I uttered one after the other my loud cries for help.

It was horrible, and yet it seemed ridiculous that we two lads could not struggle up there into safety; but though I thought so then, I have often felt since that in my cramped position I was loaded down, as it were, with my companion's weight.

The end seemed to be coming fast. I had no dread for myself, since I felt that, once free of Mercer's tight clutch and the hold I had upon him, I could grasp the far edge of the woodwork, draw myself farther up, and sit and rest. But before I could do this I knew that he would have sunk away from me, and in a confused fashion I began to wonder whether I should hear him scream out as he was drowning, or whether he would sink down gently without a sound.

I shouted again, but my voice sounded weak, and as if it did not penetrate the trees which closed us in, and now it seemed to be all over, for the horrible sense of faintness was returning fast, and I made one more desperate effort before I felt that I too was going to sink back into the black water; and in that wild last fit of energy I uttered what was quite a shriek, and then felt half choked by the spasm of joy that seemed to rise into my throat.

For from quite close at hand there came quite a cheery,--

"Hillo!"

"Here--quick--help!" I gasped; and then I was silent, and hearing a loud e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, as I felt the wood of the penstock tremble.

"All right. Hold tight, lad," said a familiar voice, and a hand grasped my collar. "I've got you, and I've got him too. Here, can you climb out?"

"If--if you can hold him," I said.

"I can hold him, and give you a help too. That's the way--get tight hold of the edge, draw yourself up. Well done. Now sit down, and put your arm round the post."

I had been conscious of a strong hand grasping my waistband and giving me a drag up, and now I was sitting trembling and holding tightly by the post.

"Now then, Master Mercer, don't stare like that, lad. I've got you safe. There, out you come. My word, you're wet! Stop a moment, though; you'd better try and get ash.o.r.e before I pull him right out.

There ain't room for three of us. Can you manage it now?"

"Yes," I said, standing up with my teeth chattering.

"Sure? Don't tumble in."

"I can do it," I said, and, trembling the while as if cold, I walked dripping along the woodwork to the sh.o.r.e, where I sank down on the gra.s.s as if my legs had suddenly given way, and crouched there watching, as I saw the man from the farm, Jem Roff, with his arm round Mercer, whom he had lifted right out, bring him streaming with water to the sh.o.r.e, and the fishing-rod behind, while, as he lowered him on to the gra.s.s, there was a horrible writhe from something wet close to me, which made me start away.

"What have you two chaps been at?" cried Roff wonderingly. "The line's all twissen round his legs,--and hold hard a minute till I get my knife.

I must have that eel."

CHAPTER FIVE.

"He's a two and a half pounder, he is," said Jem Roff as, after a bit of a struggle, he got tight hold of the writhing monster. "My word," he continued, holding it down, "he's a strong un! Here, you just slip your hand into my jacket pocket and get out my knife. Open it, will you?"

I followed out his instructions, and handed him the opened knife, when with one clever cut he divided the eel's backbone, and its writhings almost ceased.

"There," continued Jem, taking hold of the line, "let's get you off.

What a tangle! why, it's reg'lar twissen all about your ankles. I must break it. Why, it's tough as--look ye here," he continued, tugging at the plaited silk, "it's strong enough to hold a whale. I shall have to cut it. Bob Hopley won't mind."

_Snick_, and the line was divided, the eel thrown down, and Jem began to untwine the line from about Mercer's legs, as the poor fellow, looking terribly white and scared, now sat up on the gra.s.s, looking dolefully from one to the other.

"My heye! you do look like a drownded rat, master," said Jem, chuckling.

"Lucky I come, warn't it?"

I looked angrily at the man, for he seemed horribly unfeeling, and then, turning to Mercer,--

"How are you now?" I said.

"Very wet," he replied feebly.

"Raw, haw!" laughed Jem. "There, get up, you're clear now. Couldn't swim a bit like that."

"No," said Mercer, getting up shivering, and shaking the water from his hair.

"Worse disasters at sea, lads. Here, come on along o' me. Let's put the rods back again;" and, taking the one he had dragged ash.o.r.e with Mercer, he whipped the line round the other and pulled it ash.o.r.e, swung the lines round both, and trotted with them to the boat-house, where he laid them on the pegs, and then came back to where we stood, so utterly upset that neither of us had spoken a word.

"Now then," cried Jem, taking hold of the sc.r.a.p of line to which the eel was attached and twisting it round his finger. "This all you caught?"

"No," I said helplessly; "there's an eel in that handkerchief hanging on the tree."

Jem dropped the big eel again and trotted to the tree.

"Big as t'other?" he said. "Raw, haw! Here's the hankerchy, but there's no eel. Look ye here, he's worked a hole through and gone. You didn't kill him first?"

"It must be down there," I said.

"Down here!" said Jem contemptuously; "he's found his way back to the water again. Eels goos through the gra.s.s like snakes. Ketch anything else?"

"Two carp," I said. "Here they are."

"Ah, that's better, and all alive, oh! I'll carry 'em. Come along."

He thrust a twig of willow through the gills of the fish, and led the way through the woods, and across some fields to a cottage, where a woman came to the door.

"Here, missus," he said, "pitch some more wood on the fire. Young squire here stepped into the pond."

"Oh, a mercy me!" cried the woman. "Pore dear, he do look bad."