But it had its effect upon him. It was a chance for life, and in a curious laboured way he struck out now to swim, but came on very slowly, being hampered in some way by his own rod.
“Oh, try, try, try!” I shouted, and I saw him set his teeth and swim on desperately till one hand closed upon the thin bamboo, and then the other caught hold.
“Tight! Hold tight,” I shouted, and, dropping on my knees, I began to draw the rod through my hands slowly, as if it was a rope, my eyes feeling as if they were starting as I saw his wild pallid face and set teeth, for I was in momentary dread that he would let go.
It seemed long enough before I had drawn him within reach and snatched at one of his wrists, then at the other, drawing myself back so as to get him closer. Then I got tight hold of his jacket collar, and, as I did so, my knees glided away from me back over the other side of the penstock, and a curious sickening sensation came over me. The water and Mercer’s white face were blurred and swimming before me, and I was fast losing consciousness, but the faintness was not much more than momentary, and the sickening sensation began to wear away as rapidly as it came, as I fully realised the fact that I was half off the little platform, with my legs in the water, but holding my companion all the time with a desperate clutch, while he clung as tightly to my wrists.
Then I tried to speak, but at first no words came, and it was all like some terrible dream.
At last, though, the power of utterance came, and I cried loudly, in a voice which did not seem like mine,—
“I’ve got you safe. Now climb out.”
He did not move, only gazed wildly in my eyes till he seemed to irritate me.
“Do you hear, you coward?” I half screamed; “climb out on to here. Do you want me to fall right in?”