'
As the word passed his lips, he staggered and fell--and next
moment was fighting with the cold dark water!
For all its bubbling up and rushing in his ears, he could hear the
knocking at the gate again--could hear a shout that followed it--
could recognise the voice. For all his struggling and plashing, he
could understand that they had lost their way, and had wandered
back to the point from which they started; that they were all but
looking on, while he was drowned; that they were close at hand, but
could not make an effort to save him; that he himself had shut and
barred them out. He answered the shout--with a yell, which seemed
to make the hundred fires that danced before his eyes tremble and
flicker, as if a gust of wind had stirred them. It was of no
avail. The strong tide filled his throat, and bore him on, upon
its rapid current.
Another mortal struggle, and he was up again, beating the water
with his hands, and looking out, with wild and glaring eyes that
showed him some black object he was drifting close upon. The hull
of a ship! He could touch its smooth and slippery surface with his
hand.
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