it lifting and flapping its broken end, and then imagine it raising
yard after yard of itself up and up, through the solemn water, more and
more of it lifting itself from the bottom, curling itself backward and
forward as it rises higher and higher, until at last, with a sudden
jump that must have ripped a mile or more of it from the bottom, it
claps its end against the thing it wants to touch, and which it can
neither see, nor hear, nor smell, but which it knows is there. Could
there be anything in this world more wonderful than that?

"And then, if that isn't enough of a wonder, think of the Rangoon end
of that cable squirming and wriggling and stretching itself out toward
our ship, but not being able to reach us on account of a want of slack;
just as alive as the Madras part of the cable, and just as savage and
frantic to get up to us and lay hold of us; and then, after our vessel
had been gradually pulled away from it, think of this other part
getting weaker and weaker, minute by minute, until it falls flat on
the bay, as dead as any other iron thing!"

The marine ceased to speak, and Mrs. Fryker heaved a sigh.

"It makes me shiver to think of all that down so deep," she said; "but
I must say I am disappointed."

"In what way?" asked the marine.

"A Water-devil," said she, "as big as six whales, and with a funnelly
mouth to suck in people, is different; but, of course, after all, it
was better as it was."

"Look here," said the blacksmith, "what became of the girl? I wanted
her finished up long ago, and you haven't done it yet."

"Miss Minturn, you mean," said the marine. "Well, there is not much to
say about her. Things happened in the usual way. When the danger was
all over, when she had other people to depend upon besides me, and we
were on board a fine steamer, with a lot of handsomely dressed naval
officers, and going comfortably to Madras, of course she thought no
more of the humble sea-soldier who once stood between her and--nobody
knew what. In fact, the only time she spoke to me after we got on board
the English steamer, she made me feel, although she didn't say it in
words, that she was not at all obliged to me for supposing that she
would have been scared to death if I had told her about the
Water-devil."

"I suppose," said the blacksmith, "by the time you got back to your
ship you had overstayed your leave of absence a good while. Did your
captain let you off when you told him this story