of his rendering any assistance to the ill-fated waterman. He fancied,
indeed, that he beheld a figure spring upon the starling at the moment
when the boats came in contact; but, as he could perceive no one near
him, he concluded he must have been mistaken.

In order to make Mr. Wood's present position, and subsequent proceedings
fully intelligible, it may be necessary to give some notion of the shape
and structure of the platform on which he had taken refuge. It has been
said, that the pier of each arch, or lock of Old London Bridge, was
defended from the force of the tide by a huge projecting spur called a
starling. These starlings varied in width, according to the bulk of the
pier they surrounded. But they were all pretty nearly of the same
length, and built somewhat after the model of a boat, having extremities
as sharp and pointed as the keel of a canoe. Cased and ribbed with
stone, and braced with horizontal beams of timber, the piles, which
formed the foundation of these jetties, had resisted the strong
encroachments of the current for centuries. Some of them are now buried
at the bottom of the Thames. The starling, on which the carpenter stood,
was the fourth from the Surrey shore. It might be three yards in width,
and a few more in length; but it was covered with ooze and slime, and
the waves continually broke over it. The transverse spars before
mentioned were as slippery as ice; and the hollows between them were
filled ankle-deep with water.

The carpenter threw himself flat upon the starling to avoid the fury of
the wind. But in this posture he fared worse than ever. If he ran less
risk of being blown over, he stood a much greater chance of being washed
off, or stifled. As he lay on his back, he fancied himself gradually
slipping off the platform. Springing to his feet in an ecstasy of
terror, he stumbled, and had well nigh realized his worst apprehensions.