The effort proved successful, for when I again ventured to emerge, gasping and exhausted, the little _Warrior_ had swept past, and become merely a shapeless outline, barely visible above the surface at the river.

Even if the two men had rushed to the stern, seeking thus to ascertain what had happened to their victim, they could not have detected my presence in that darkness, or determined whether or not I had met death in the depths, or been crushed lifeless by those revolving paddles.
Slowly treading water, my lips held barely above the surface, I drew in deep draughts of cool night air, my mind becoming more active as hope returned.

The blow I had received was a savage one, and pained dully, but the cold water in which I had been immersed had caused the bleeding to cease, and likewise revived all my faculties.

The water was so icy, still fed by the winter snow of the north, as to make me conscious of chill, and awaken within me a fear of cramps.

The steamer melted swiftly away into nothingness, and the last indication of its presence in the distance was the faint gleam of a stern light piercing the night shadows.