“Vish as much mine as his,” said the man to himself; and, in nowise weakened by his immersion, he closed with Nic. There was a short struggle on the ledge, which was about the worst place that could have been chosen for such an encounter; and Nic, as he put forth all his strength against the man’s iron muscles, was borne to his left over the water and to his right with a heavy bang against the rocky side of the chasm. Then, before he could recover himself, there was a rapid disengagement and two powerful arms clasped his waist; he was heaved up in old West-country wrestling fashion, struggling wildly, and, in spite of his efforts to cling to his adversary, by a mighty effort jerked off. He fell clear away in the foaming pool, which closed over his head as he was borne in turn right beneath the tons upon tons of water which thundered in his ears, while he experienced the sudden change from sunshine into the dense blackness of night.
“How do you like that?” shouted the man; but it was only a faint whisper, of which he alone was conscious.
There was a broad grin upon his face, and his big white teeth glistened in the triumphant smile which lit up his countenance.
“I’ll let you zee.”
He stood dripping and watching the swirling and foaming water for the reappearance of Nic.
“Biggest vish I got this year,” he said to himself. “Lost my pole, too; and here! where’s my cap, and—?”
There was a sudden change in his aspect, his face becoming full of blank horror now as he leaned forward, staring over the pool, eyes and mouth open widely; and then, with a groan, he gasped out:
“Well, I’ve done it now!”