The Battery and the Boiler | Page 8

for the moment--gazing at the spot where his playmate had

disappeared.
Another moment and her head and hands appeared. She struggled
bravely for life, while the circling current carried her quickly to the
lower end of the pool.
Robin's energies returned, as he afterwards said, like an electric shock,
but accompanied with a terrible sinking of the heart, for he knew that
he could not swim! His education in this important particular had been
neglected. He sprang round to the lower end of the pool just in time to
hold out his hand to the drowning girl. He almost touched her
outstretched hand as she swept towards the turbulent waters below, but
failed to grasp it.
For the first time in his life our little hero was called on to face death
voluntarily. Another moment and Madge would have been caught in
the boiling stream that rushed towards the fall below. He was equal to
the occasion. He sprang right upon Madge and caught her in his arms.
There was no need to hold on to her. In the agony of fear the poor child
clasped the boy in a deadly embrace. They were whirled violently
round and hurled against a rock. Robin caught it with one hand, but it
was instantly torn from his grasp. The waters overwhelmed them, and
again sent them violently towards the bank. This time Robin caught a
rock with both hands and held on. Slowly, while almost choked with
the water that splashed up into his face, he worked his right knee into a
crevice, then made a wild grasp with the left hand at a higher projection
of the rock. At the same moment his left foot struck the bottom.
Another effort and he was out of danger, but it was several minutes ere
he succeeded in dragging Madge from the hissing water of the shallows
to the green sward above, and after this was accomplished he found it
almost impossible to tear himself from the grasp of the now
unconscious girl.
At first poor Robin thought that his companion was dead, but by
degrees consciousness returned, and at last she was able to rise and
walk.
Drenched, dishevelled, and depressed, these unfortunate electricians

returned home.
Of course they were received with mingled joy and reproof. Of course,
also, they were forbidden to go near the pool again--though this
prohibition was afterwards removed, and our hero ultimately became a
first-rate swimmer and diver.
Thus was frustrated the laying of the first submarine cable between
England and Denmark!
CHAPTER FIVE.
PROSPECTS OF REAL CABLE-LAYING--ROBIN MEETS WITH
HIS FIRST ELECTRICAL ACQUAINTANCES.
Circumstances require that we should shift the scene and the date pretty
frequently in this tale. We solicit the reader's attendance at an office in
London.
The office is dingy. Many offices are so. Two clerks are sitting in it
making faces at each other across their desk. They are not lunatics.
They are not imbeciles or idlers. On the contrary, they have frequent
spells of work that might throw the toils of an Arab ass into the shade.
They are fine strapping young fellows, with pent-up energies equal to
anything, but afflicted with occasional periods of having nothing
particular to do. These two have been sitting all morning in busy
idleness. Their muscular and nervous systems rebelling, have induced
much fidgeting and many wry faces. Being original, they have turned
their sorrows into a game, and their little game at present is to see
which can make a face so hideous that the other shall be compelled to
laugh! We have deep sympathy with clerks. We have been a clerk, and
know what it is to have the fires of Vesuvius raging within, while under
the necessity of exhibiting the cool aspect of Spitzbergen without.
But these clerks were not utterly miserable. On the contrary, they were,
to use one of their own familiar phrases, rather jolly than otherwise.
Evening was before them in far-off but attainable perspective. Home,
lawn-tennis, in connection with bright eyes and pretty faces, would

compensate for the labours of the day and let off the steam. They were
deep in their game when a rap at the door brought their faces suddenly
to a state of nature.
"Come in," said the first clerk.
"And wipe your feet," murmured the second, in a low tone.
A gentleman, with an earnest countenance, entered.
"Is Mr Lowstoft in his office?"
"He is, sir," said the first clerk, descending from his perch with an air of
good-will, and requesting the visitor's name and business.
The visitor handed his card, on which the name Cyrus Field was
written, and the clerk, observing it, admitted the owner at once to the
inner sanctum where Mr Lowstoft transacted business.
"There's something up," murmured the clerk, with a mysterious