and rowed noiselessly, moving their lanterns carefully over the surface
of the water. Beneath all was the gentle murmur of the cruel Scheldt as,
lapping the banks, it flowed eternally onward.

Twice Dolf came to the surface and twice he disappeared again. They
could see his arms move and his face seemed paler in the darkness. Once
more he clove the icy gulf and plunged still deeper. Suddenly his legs
became motionless, as if entangled in the treacherous sea-weed by the
spiteful water-spirits. The drowning man had seized him, and Dolf
realized that if he could not get free, both would be lost. His limbs
were more tightly pressed than in a vice. Then there was a terrible
struggle, and the men both sank to the mud of the river-bed. In the
drowning darkness they fought, bit, tore one another, like mortal
enemies. Dolf at last gained the upper hand; the paralyzing arms ceased
to strangle him, and he felt an inert mass floating upon him. A terrible
lassitude as of a sleep overcame him, his head fell forward, the water
entered his mouth. But the light of the torches penetrated the dark
water; he gathered up his strength and dragged after him the prey which
he had robbed from the hungry eels. Then at last he breathed pure air
again.

With that there was a great outburst from the bank.

"Courage, Dolf," cried the breathless crowd, stretching out over the
river. One or two boat-men had piled some wood and set light to it. The
flames rose spirally and lit up the sky for some distance.

"This way, Dolf! Courage, Dolf! A brave heart, courage!" yelled the
crowd.