“It is ended!” he gasped. “Rudge is at the bottom—dead before this!”
Then he realized that his clothing was soaked, his feet felt like lead, and the current seemed trying to drag him down.
“It would be an easy way to end it all!” was the mad thought that came to him. “Then they could not point at me with scorn. My friends would tell how I died trying to save the life of the proctor.”
The temptation was powerful upon him—it was almost irresistible. How easy it would be to fold his hands upon his breast, stop struggling and sink. It would wipe out the stain in a measure.
Then came the thought that it would be cowardly to end his life there in the river to escape. He would be abandoning his friends to their fate. They would live and be punished. If he lived, he might save them in a measure by telling the truth. That would be the only manly thing to do.
He was doubly ashamed of himself because he had almost yielded to the temptation to do another cowardly thing. Never had he dreamed that he could feel so mean and contemptible.
He started to swim toward the shore, but now he found that the current was strong, and he had been in the water so long that he was nearly exhausted. His clothes were heavy, and the shoes on his feet seemed made of lead.
With all his strength he struck out. He would not give up. It was not for his own life he was struggling now, but he was determined to live and do all he could to take the blame of this terrible affair on his own shoulders.
With his teeth set, he battled against the strength of the stream that tried to sweep him on. He fought his way toward the shore, but his progress was slow.
Clank—clank!