It was incredibly true. It was perfectly true. I had no eyes for
anything but the Diana. It was she, then, was being taken away. She was
already out of her berth and shooting athwart the river. "The way this
loonatic plucked that ship out is a caution," said the awed voice of my
mate close to my ear. "Hey! Hallo! Falk! Hermann! What's this infernal
trick?" I yelled in a fury.

Nobody heard me. Falk certainly could not hear me. His tug was turning
at full speed away under the other bank. The wire hawser between her and
the Diana, stretched as taut as a harp-string, vibrated alarmingly.

The high black craft careened over to the awful strain. A loud crack
came out of her, followed by the tearing and splintering of wood.
"There!" said the awed voice in my ear. "He's carried away their towing
chock." And then, with enthusiasm, "Oh! Look! Look! sir, Look! at them
Dutchmen skipping out of the way on the forecastle. I hope to goodness
he'll break a few of their shins before he's done with 'em."

I yelled my vain protests. The rays of the rising sun coursing level
along the plain warmed my back, but I was hot enough with rage. I
could not have believed that a simple towing operation could suggest so
plainly the idea of abduction, of rape. Falk was simply running off with
the Diana.

The white tug careered out into the middle of the river. The red floats
of her paddle-wheels revolving with mad rapidity tore up the whole reach
into foam. The Diana in mid-stream waltzed round with as much grace
as an old barn, and flew after her ravisher. Through the ragged fog of
smoke driving headlong upon the water I had a glimpse of Falk's square
motionless shoulders under a white hat as big as a cart-wheel, of his