But the man’s nerve was gone, and he only clung the tighter and made a drowning-man’s effort to throw his legs about his officer’s.
“Help! help!” he gasped, and a desperate struggle ensued, during which both went beneath the surface again, only to rise with Bracy completely crippled, for the poor drowning wretch had been completely mastered by his intense desire for life, and arms and legs were now round his officer in the death-grip.
Bracy cast a wild, despairing look round as he was borne rapidly along, and all seemed over, when a head suddenly came into sight from behind them, an arm rose above the surface, and the swimmer to whom it belonged drove his fist with a dull smack right on the drowning-man’s ear, and with strange effect.
It was as if the whole muscular power had been instantaneously discharged like so much electricity at the touch of a rod, the horrible clinging grasp ceased, and with a feeble effort Bracy shook himself free and began to swim.
“A jolly idgit!” panted a voice; “a-holding on to yer orficer like that! Want to drown him? Can you keep up, sir?”
“Yes, I think so,” said Bracy weakly.
“That’s right, sir. You’ll do it. I’ll give yer a ’and if yer can’t. It’s easy enough if yer swim with the stream.”
“Can you keep him up?” said Bracy more vigorously.
“Oh yus, sir; I can manage to keep him on his back and his nose out o’ the water. Knocked him silly.”
“Where are the others?”