As he moved about upon the starling, Mr. Wood became sensible that he was not alone.  Some one was standing beside him.  This, then, must be the person whom he had seen spring upon the western platform at the time of the collision between the boats.  The carpenter well knew from the obstacle which had interfered with his own progress, that the unknown could not have passed through the same lock as himself.  But he might have crept along the left side of the pier, and beneath the further arch; whereas, Wood, as we have seen, took his course upon the right.  The darkness prevented the carpenter from discerning the features or figure of the stranger; and the ceaseless din precluded the possibility of holding any communication by words with him.  Wood, however, made known his presence to the individual by laying his hand upon his shoulder.  The stranger started at the touch, and spoke.  But his words were borne away by the driving wind.

Finding all attempts at conversation with his companion in misfortune in vain, Wood, in order to distract his thoughts, looked up at the gigantic structure standing, like a wall of solid darkness, before him.  What was his transport on perceiving that a few yards above him a light was burning.  The carpenter did not hesitate a moment.  He took a handful of the gravelly mud, with which the platform was covered, and threw the small pebbles, one by one, towards the gleam.  A pane of glass was shivered by each stone.  The signal of distress was evidently understood.  The light disappeared.  The window was shortly after opened, and a rope ladder, with a lighted horn lantern attached to it, let down.

Wood grasped his companion’s arm to attract his attention to this unexpected means of escape.  The ladder was now within reach.  Both advanced towards it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered and stern features of Rowland.

The carpenter trembled; for he perceived Rowland’s gaze fixed first upon the infant, and then on himself.

“It is her child!” shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard above the howling of the tempest, “risen from this roaring abyss to torment me.  Its parents have perished.  And shall their wretched offspring live to blight my hopes, and blast my fame?  Never!” And, with these words, he grasped Wood by the throat, and, despite his resistance, dragged him to the very verge of the platform.

All this juncture, a thundering crash was heard against the side of the bridge.  A stack of chimneys, on the house above them, had yielded to the storm, and descended in a shower of bricks and stones.

When the carpenter a moment afterwards stretched out his hand, scarcely knowing whether he was alive or dead, he found himself alone.  The fatal shower, from which he and his little charge escaped uninjured, had stricken his assailant and precipitated him into the boiling gulf.