“That’s all right,” said Blundell, vaguely.  “Don’t you worry about that; I shall find somebody.”

Mr. Turnbull turned and cast a speculative eye along the quay.  As a rule, he had great confidence in Blundell’s determination, but on this occasion he had his doubts.

“Well, it’s a riddle to me,” he said, slowly.  “I give it up.  It seems—­ Halloa!  Good heavens, be careful.  You nearly had me in then.”

“Did I?” said Blundell, thickly.  “I’m very sorry.”

Mr. Turnbull, angry at such carelessness, accepted the apology in a grudging spirit and trudged along in silence.  Then he started nervously as a monstrous and unworthy suspicion occurred to him.  It was an incredible thing to suppose, but at the same time he felt that there was nothing like being on the safe side, and in tones not quite free from significance he intimated his desire of changing places with his awkward friend.

“It’s all right,” said Blundell, soothingly.

“I know it is,” said Mr. Turnbull, regarding him fixedly; “but I prefer this side.  You very near had me over just now.”

“I staggered,” said Mr. Blundell.

“Another inch and I should have been overboard,” said Mr. Turnbull, with a shudder.  “That would have been a nice how d’ye do.”

Mr. Blundell coughed and looked seaward.  “Accidents will happen,” he murmured.

They reached the end of the quay again and stood talking, and when they turned once more the sergeant was surprised and gratified at the ease with which he bore off Venia.  Mr. Turnbull and Blundell followed some little way behind, and the former gentleman’s suspicions were somewhat lulled by finding that his friend made no attempt to take the inside place.  He looked about him with interest for a likely victim, but in vain.

“What are you looking at?” he demanded, impatiently, as Blundell suddenly came to a stop and gazed curiously into the harbour.

“Jelly-fish,” said the other, briefly.  “I never saw such a monster.  It must be a yard across.”

Mr. Turnbull stopped, but could see nothing, and even when Blundell pointed it out with his finger he had no better success.  He stepped forward a pace, and his suspicions returned with renewed vigour as a hand was laid caressingly on his shoulder.  The next moment, with a wild shriek, he shot suddenly over the edge and disappeared.  Venia and the sergeant, turning hastily, were just in time to see the fountain which ensued on his immersion.

[Illustration:  “With a wild shriek, he shot suddenly over the edge and disappeared.”]

“Oh, save him!” cried Venia.

The sergeant ran to the edge and gazed in helpless dismay as Mr. Turnbull came to the surface and disappeared again.  At the same moment Blundell, who had thrown off his coat, dived into the harbour and, rising rapidly to the surface, caught the fast-choking Mr. Turnbull by the collar.