to the
other. I would do all quietly and in order, I reflected. I was
silently kicking off my shoes, when a thought struck me. In my last
struggles it was possible that the desire of life would master me,
and almost unconsciously I might take to swimming. In the old days
at Lizard Town swimming had been as natural to me as walking, and I
had no doubt that as soon as in the water I should begin to strike
out. Could I count upon determination enough to withhold my arms and
let myself slowly drown?

Here was a difficulty; but I resolved to make everything sure.
I took my handkerchief out of the coat pocket, and bent down to tie
my feet firmly together. All this I did quite calmly and
mechanically. As far as one can be certain of anything at this
distance of time, I am certain of this, that no thought of hesitation
came into my head. It was not that I overcame any doubts; they never
occurred to me.

I was stooping down, and had already bound the handkerchief once
around my ankles, when my boat grated softly against something.
I looked up, and saw once more above me a dark ship's hull, and right
above my head the white letters, _Water-Witch_.

This would never do. My boat had drifted up the river again with the
tide, stern foremost, but a little aslant, and had run against the
warp by the schooner's bows. I must pull out again, for otherwise
the people on board would hear me. I pushed gently off from the warp
and took the sculls, when suddenly I heard voices back towards the
stern.

My first impulse was to get away with all speed, and I had already
taken half a stroke, when something caused my hands to drop and my
heart to give one wild leap.

What was it? Something in the voices? Yes; something that brushed
my stupor from me as though it were a cobweb; something that made me
hush my breath, and strain with all my ears to listen.

The two voices were those of man and woman, They were slightly
raised, as if in a quarrel; the woman's pleading and entreating, the
man's threatening and stern. But that was not the reason that
suddenly set my heart uncontrollably beating and all the blood
rushing and surging to my temples.

For in those two voices I recognised Mrs. Luttrell and Simon
Colliver!

"Have you not done enough?" the woman's voice was saying. "Has your
cruelty no end, that you must pursue me so? Take this money, and let
me go."

"I must have more," was the answer.

"Indeed, I have no more j