He clung to the head-rope of a barge moored some nine feet from shore, and it appeared that he was hurt, for his efforts to lift himself up and over the stem of the boat, though persistent, were feeble, and at every effort he groaned.
The dog--cause of the mischief--craned forward at him over the water, and barked in indecent triumph.
Mr.Mortimer, who had gone through the form of tearing off his coat, paused as he unbuttoned his waistcoat also, and glanced at Mr.Hucks.
"Can you swim ?" he asked.

"I--I regret to say it is not one of my accomplishments." "I ain't goin' to try just yet," Mr.Hucks answered with creditable composure.

"They 're bound to fetch help between 'em with the row they 're making.

Just hark to the d--d dog." Sure enough the alarm had been given.

A voice at that moment hailed from one of the boats across the water to know what was the matter, and half a dozen porters, canal-men, night watchmen from the warehouses, came running around the head of the basin; but before they could arrive, a man dashed out of the darkness behind the two watchers, tore past them, and sprang for the boat.