beneath him, transferred him to a tuft of hazel at its base, which
consigned him to the boughs of an ash that had rooted itself in a
fissure about halfway down the rock, which finally transmitted him to
the waters of the lake.

Squire Headlong anxiously watched the tower as the smoke rolled away;
but when the shadowy curtain was withdrawn, and Mr. Panscope was
discovered, alone, in a tragical attitude, his apprehensions became
boundless, and he concluded that a flying fragment of rock had killed
Mr. Cranium.

Mr. Escot arrived at the scene of the disaster just as Mr. Cranium,
utterly destitute of the art of swimming, was in imminent danger of
drowning. Mr. Escot immediately plunged in to his assistance, and
brought him alive and in safety to a shelving part of the shore. Their
landing was hailed with a shout from the delighted squire, who, shaking
them both heartily by the hand, and making ten thousand lame apologies
to Mr. Cranium, concluded by asking, in a pathetic tone, "How much water
he had swallowed?" and without waiting for his answer, filled a large
tumbler with Madeira, and insisted on his tossing it off, which was no
sooner said than done. Mr. Panscope descended the tower, which he vowed
never again to approach within a quarter of a mile.

The squire took care that Mr. Cranium should be seated next to him at
dinner, and plied him so hard with Madeira, to prevent him, as he said,
from taking cold, that long before the ladies sent in their summons to
coffee, the squire was under the necessity of ringing for three or four
servants to carry him to bed, observing, with a smile of great
satisfaction, that he was in a very excellent way for escaping any ill
consequences that might have resulted from his accident.