f it, Cissy Tuttle that was here has
married a postman, and the young lady that's took it over may not know
my name." His speech had not the appearance of a sudden thought, and the
less so that he began to get rid of his oilskin incumbrance almost
before he had uttered it.

The understanding of what then happened needs a clear picture of the
exact position of things at this moment. The boat, held back by the
dipped oars, but steadied now and again by the hand of the sergeant on
the grating or ladder, lay uneasily between the wind and the current.
The man on the grating showed some unwillingness to lend the hand-up
that was asked for; and took exception, it seemed, to the safety of the
landing on any terms. "Maybe you want a dip in the river, master?" said
he. "It's no concern of mine. Only I don't care to take your weight on
this greasy bit of old iron. I'm best out of the water."

The sergeant paused, looked at the grating, which certainly sloped
outwards, then at the boat and at the ladder. "Catch hold!" said he.

But the other held back. "Why can't your mate there hand me the end of
that painter, and slue her round? That's easy! Won't take above a half a
minute, and save somebody a wet shirt. Tie her nose to the ring
yonder!--just bring you up oppo_site_ to where I'm standing! Think it
out, master."

The sergeant, however, seemed to have made up his mind in spite of the
reasonableness of this suggestion. For when the man rowing bow stooped
back and reached out for the painter--the course seemed the obvious and
natural one--he was stopped by his chief, who said rather tartly:--"You
take your orders from me, Cookson!" and then held out his hand as
before, saying:--"You're a tidy weight, my lad. _I_ shan't pull you
overboard."

He did, nevertheless, and it came about thus. The two men at the oars
saw the whole thing, and were clear in their account of it after.
Ibbetson, their sergeant, did _not_ take the hand that was proffered
him, but seized its wrist. It seemed to them that he made no attempt to
lift himself up from the boat; and the nearer one, pulling stroke, would
have it that Ibbetson even hooked the seat with his foot, as though to
get a purchase on the man's wrist that he held. Anyhow, the result was
the same. The man lost his footing under the strain, and pitched sheer
forward on his assailant; for the aggressive intention of the latter may
be taken as established beyond a doubt. As he fell, he struck ou