by what I should have felt in his situation,
I expected some conciliatory proposition from him; and we waited,
with no little interest and anxiety, till he had wiped his face and
neck, and adjusted his damp linen as well as he could. He had the
satisfaction of knowing that I, the rebel, who had resisted him, and
whom he regarded as the author of all the mischief, had saved his
life; and I am sure that it was a greater satisfaction to me than it
was to him. I ran the Splash up towards the deserters, who were still
employed in baling out their boat.

Mr. Parasyte spoke at last. Though I knew he was a tyrant, though I
knew there was nothing that could be called noble in his nature, I did
not expect what followed. I supposed there was some impressible spot
in his heart which might have been reached through the act we had just
done.

"So you meant to drown me--did you?" were the first words he said, and
in a tone so uncompromising that we saw at once there was nothing to
hope.

I looked at Bob Hale, and Bob looked at me. Our surprise was mutual;
and as there was nothing that could be said, we said nothing.

"You meant to drown me--did you?" repeated Mr. Parasyte, with more
emphasis than before.

Bob and I looked at each other again. Grave as was the charge he
indirectly preferred against us, there was something so ludicrous in
the making of it by one whom we had just pulled out of the water, that
I could not help smiling. Mr. Parasyte saw that smile, and as he
always put the worst construction upon what was done by those not in
favor, he misinterpreted it, and tortured it into a sneer.

"I say you meant to drown me; and you sneer at me."

"We did not mean to drown you, sir," replied Tom Rush, respectfully.

"Yes, you did! And now you are laughing at your wicked deed," he
replied, looking fiercely at me.

"I was laughing, Mr. Parasyte, to think that one whom we have just
pulled out of the water should accuse us of attempting to drown him,"
I replied.

"That's what you meant to do; but you didn't dare to do it. You were
afraid of the consequences."

"You are mistaken, sir; we had no such intentions," added Bob Hale,
with due deference.

"Didn't you, or didn't Thornton, throw me over into the lake?"
demanded he, as if surprised that we should attempt to deny the
charge.

"No, sir; I did not," I answered.

"Didn't you turn your boat, and jerk the painter so as to throw me
into the water?"

"I certainly cha