It was pretty dark, but Josh's eyes were accustomed to that transparent gloom, and he had noted a tremulous motion of the boy's line almost before Arthur started, for there was a gentle, insidious touch at his bait that telegraphed along the line to his fingers, and then drew it softly through them as the fish, whatever it was, took the bait and began to swim away. Arthur started as Josh whispered to him, and his fingers closed upon the line. The moment before this latter was moving as if some tiny fish were drawing it from him; but the moment his closing hands checked the line's progress there was a tremendous jerk and a rush; and as, in spite of himself, Arthur held on, it seemed as if a boy a good deal stronger than himself were trying to pull it out of his hands, and after a few furious struggles seated himself, to hang at the end with his whole weight. "I told you so," said Josh in satisfied tones. "I knowed as well as could be that there would be a big one down yonder, and I think it is a big one, eh, Master Rawthur." "It's--it's a monster," panted Arthur. "Hadn't we better let it go?" "Let it do what?" cried Josh. "A mussy me! what do he mean?" "Oh! I say, Taff, you are a lucky one," cried Dick in genuine disappointed tones. "On! all right, we've got one too." "Lucky one!" At that moment Arthur was bitterly repenting his want of foresight. Both hands were engaged now or he might have got out his pocketknife and, unseen by Josh in the darkness, have cut the line, which would have been supposed to be broken by the violent struggles of the great eel. "I'll never come again," he thought to himself, "if ever I get safely back. I would not have come if I had known. Oh! what shall I do?" These are a specimen or two of the thoughts that ran through Arthur Temple's brains as he clung desperately to the line with the conger or whatever it was at the end tugging and jerking at it hard enough to make the boy's shoulders sore. "Steady! steady!" cried Josh, interfering. "That's not the way to ketch conger. Give him line, as I showed you afore. There, you see," he continued, as Arthur slackened the cord. "Eh, 'ullo! Why, what's up?" he exclaimed. "Here, give me hold." Arthur passed the line to him with a sigh of intense relief, and Josh gave way, hauled, and tried three or four different little plans before passing the line back to Arthur. "Here, you ketch hold," he cried. "It's a big one and no mistake. He has got his tail twisted round a bit of rock, or he's half in a hole, or something. Don't let him shake you like that, my lad, but give him line when he snatches you. He's half in a hole as sure as can be, and if we hauled we should only break the line." "What are we to do?" said Arthur, his words coming in pants. "Shall we leave the line and go?" "Leave the line, my lad!" cried Josh. "Well, that arn't very likely. No, no: lines are too vallerble, and instead of giving the conger the line, we'll get him aboard."