Alone he would have felt little alarm, but this dead weight tired him. He made scanty progress, and before long felt that he must go down. Still, he never once thought of deserting Dandy; he would save him, or perish in the attempt.
The waves were rolling fiercely, his breast was sore as if beaten with heavy hammers, he gasped for breath, and the salt water poured into his open mouth.
"Help!" he cried, "help!" And surely that was Dicky's voice he heard in answer.
He strained his ears to listen, and the sound came again. He recognized the words now—"Jim! Jim! where are you?"—and put all his remaining strength into one last cry of despair.
Help must come quickly, or it would be too late. His strength was failing, his mind wandering.
"It's all my fault, Dandy," he murmured, "but I'll do my best. I'll stick to you. Look at the star! It's getting bigger and brighter. It's coming this way. Look! it's dancing up and down!" And he broke into loud laughter.
He had ceased swimming now, and was merely keeping himself and his silent companion afloat, almost without knowing that he did so.
CHAPTER VIII.
"DID I SAVE HIM?"
When Dick Boden ran from the Fort and raised the alarm, he waited till his companions made their appearance; then, expecting they would all follow, he dashed off across the stone bridge. In his opinion, as he afterwards said, the worst that could happen for any one was a few hours' imprisonment in the old tower.