Had it not been lashed to the adjoining wherry, it must have been upset, and have precipitated the opponents into the water.

Rowland felt himself sinking beneath the powerful grasp of his enemy.

He called to the other attendant, who held the torch.
Understanding the appeal, the man snatched his master's sword from his grasp, and passed it through Darrell's body.

The next moment, a heavy plunge told that the fugitive had been consigned to the waves.
Darrell, however, rose again instantly; and though mortally wounded, made a desperate effort to regain the boat.
"My child!" he groaned faintly.
"Well reminded," answered Rowland, who had witnessed his struggles with a smile of gratified vengeance; "I had forgotten the accursed imp in this confusion.

Take it," he cried, lifting the babe from the bottom of the boat, and flinging it towards its unfortunate father.
The child fell within a short distance of Darrell, who, hearing the splash, struck out in that direction, and caught it before it sank.