CHAPTER L.
TREATING OF SOME CONFUSION, IN CONSEQUENCE, IN THE CLUB-ROOM OF THE PHOENIX AND ELSEWHERE, AND OF A HAT THAT WAS PICKED UP.
When Cluffe sprang out of the boat, he was very near capsizing it and finishing Puddock off-hand, but she righted and shot away swiftly towards the very centre of the weir, over which, in a sheet of white foam, she swept, and continued her route toward Dublin--bottom upward, leaving little Puddock, however, safe and sound, clinging to a post, at top, and standing upon a rough sort of plank, which afforded a very unpleasant footing, by which the nets were visited from time to time.
'Hallo! are you safe, Cluffe ?' cried the little lieutenant, quite firm, though a little dizzy, on his narrow stand, with the sheets of foam whizzing under his feet; what had become of his musical companion he had not the faintest notion, and when he saw the boat hurled over near the sluice, and drive along the stream upside down, he nearly despaired.
But when the captain's military cloak, which he took for Cluffe himself, followed in the track of the boat, whisking, sprawling, and tumbling, in what Puddock supposed to be the agonies of drowning, and went over the weir and disappeared from view, returning no answer to his screams of 'Strike out, Cluffe! to your right, Cluffe.

Hollo! to your right,' he quite gave the captain over.
'Surrendhur, you thievin' villain, or I'll put the contints iv this gun into yir carcass,' shouted an awful voice from the right bank, and Puddock saw the outline of a gigantic marksman, preparing to fire into his corresponding flank.
'What do you mean, Sir ?' shouted Puddock, in extreme wrath and discomfort.
'Robbin' the nets, you spalpeen; if you throw them salmon you're hidin' undher your coat into the wather, be the tare-o-war--' 'What salmon, Sir ?' interrupted the lieutenant.

'Why, salmon's not in season, Sir.' 'None iv yer flummery, you schamin' scoundrel; but jest come here and give yourself up, for so sure as you don't, or dar to stir an inch from that spot, I'll blow you to smithereens!' 'Captain Cluffe is drowned, Sir; and I'm Lieutenant Puddock,' rejoined the officer.
'Tare-an-ouns, an' is it yerself, Captain Puddock, that's in it ?' cried the man.

'I ax yer pardon; but I tuk you for one of thim vagabonds that's always plundherin' the fish.

And who in the wide world, captain jewel, id expeck to see you there, meditatin' in the middle of the river, this time o' night; an' I dunna how in the world you got there, at all, at all, for the planking is carried away behind you since yistherday.' 'Give an alarm, if you please, Sir, this moment,' urged Puddock.
'Captain Cluffe has gone over this horrid weir, not a minute since, and is I fear drowned.' 'Dhrownded! och! bloody wars.' 'Yes, Sir, send some one this moment down the stream with a rope--' 'Hollo, Jemmy ?' cried the man, and whistled through his crooked finger.
'Jemmy,' said he to the boy who presented himself, 'run down to Tom Garret, at the Millbridge, and tell him Captain Cluffe's dhrownded over the weir, and to take the boat-hook and rope--he's past the bridge by this time--ay is he at the King's House--an' if he brings home the corpse alive or dead, before an hour, Captain Puddock here will give him twenty guineas reward.' So away went the boy.
''Tis an unaisy way you're situated yourself, I'm afeard,' observed the man.
'Have the goodness to say, Sir, by what meanth, if any, I can reach either bank of the river,' lisped Puddock, with dignity.
''Tis thrue for you, captain, _that's_ the chat--how the divil to get you alive out o' the position you're in.