Coming to the surface with a gasp, he looked around for any sign of the dark bundle, fearing lest in the blackness of the encroaching night he might lose it altogether. For some seconds he saw nothing; then, a few yards away, it bobbed up. Three or four vigorous strokes brought the swimmer to it just as it was going down once more. He seized it with his left hand and, supporting the head above the water, made for the bank, luckily no more than seven or eight yards distant. He hauled the heavy object up the sodden slope, stooped down to examine it, and saw that it was a man tied up to the neck, and with a gag about his mouth. It was the work of a moment to tear away the gag. He placed his hand over the man’s heart: did it still beat? He could not tell; all feeling seemed to be deadened within him by his excitement and strain. The man made no sound or movement. Harry shivered and thought he must be dead; of the means to resuscitate a half-drowned man he knew nothing. A few seconds passed; then he heard hasty footsteps behind him, and turned just as Sherebiah sprang down the slope. The faithful fellow had been again playing his part of watch-dog; he had seen Harry’s plunge into the river, and raced round the embankment in alarm. "Fecks, you give me a jump, sir," he panted. "What’s amiss?" "Ah! Sherry, look; ’tis a man, in a sack; the poor wretch is drowned, I fear." "’Tis murder then. Let’s see, sir." He stooped down, cut the fastenings of the sack, and pulled it off the body. "Now sir, lend a hand. Fust thing is to pour the water out of un." "He was gagged, Sherry." "Then that saves our time. A gagged man can’t ship many gallons o’ water. Leave un to me, sir." He quickly opened the man’s coat and vest, bent over him, and pressed heavily beneath his lower ribs. Then he sprang back, and again bent forward and pressed. After repeating these movements several times, he went to the man’s head, took his arms and pulled them back till they met behind, then jerked them forward upon his breast. A gurgling sound came from the man’s lips. "He be alive, sir," cried Sherebiah. "Another minute or two and we’ll have un on his feet." A great sigh escaped from the prostrate form. "Well done, master," said Sherebiah, ceasing from his exertions. "You’ve got your breath again, thanks be. Now, take your time, and don’t get up till ’ee feel disposed: only bein’ drippen wet the sooner you be dry the better, so——Sakes alive! Master Harry, ’tis my good-for-nothen cousin Rafe Aglionby, and no one else." "Good heavens!" "Rafe, man, can ’ee open your eyes? ’Tis me and Mr. Rochester; you be safe."