Todd was not very young and supple in his joints, but the sense of present and serious danger has an effect upon every one, and in a moment he seized the side of the pile-driving barge, and drew himself in.
"All right," said the old man.
"Oh, yes—yes," said Todd, as he crouched down with his chin touching the side of the barge.
"Good-night, then."
"Good-night! You will come for me if you can?"
"Yes, but don't expect us. Pull, now, as hard as you can, and get out into the stream. Pull! pull!"
By the strenuous united exertions of the two men, the boat shot along at good speed, and soon got to a considerable distance from the barge in which Todd had taken refuge. It was then that the police-galley hoisted a strong light that shed a bright glare through the rain, and over the surface of the river.
"Am I saved?" said Todd. "Am I saved, or am I not?"
He sank quite down into the body of the barge. There was a sort of platform over one-half of it, and upon that platform he felt the mass of iron, weighing about a couple of hundredweight, or more, which was used for driving piles into the bed of the river, and which, when liberated from a height, and allowed to fall upon the end of the pile, comes with a most tremendous force.
That piece of metal so used is called "the monkey."