“Tell me this moment,” said Harry sternly.
“You are going to let me sink down,” cried Penelly in horror-stricken tones. “Oh, Harry Paul, my good, brave fellow! help me out—save me—save me!”
A curious smile curled the young man’s lip, one which horrified Penelly, who shrieked out:
“Yes, yes; I’ll confess all. Zekle Wynn threatened to tell—to tell—”
“That you threw the net over me last night?”
“Yes—yes—I did; but it was an accident—an ac—”
“What?” roared Harry.
“No, no—I confess,” said Penelly feebly, for he felt that his last hour had come. “I did it. I felt tempted to do it when you swam round; but Heaven’s my witness, Harry, I only meant to duck you. I meant to help drag you out after a minute, and so I did.”
“How came you in the race this morning?” said Harry, in a cold, cutting voice.
“I’ll—I’ll confess all,” said Penelly faintly, “only help me out and save my life. I’ll go away from Carn Du, Harry Paul. I’ll be like your dog in future, only save me.”