Things good and evil balance themselves in a remarkable¹ manner and almost universally. The steel bow attached to the arbalestrier's back, and carried above his head, had sunk him. That very steel bow, owing to that very position, could not escape Gerard's hands, one of which grasped it, and the other went between the bow and the cord, which was as good. The next moment, Denys, by means of his crossbow, was hoisted² with so eager a jerk that half his body bobbed up out of water.  
“Now, grip me not! grip me not!” cried Gerard, in mortal terror of that fatal mistake.
 
“Pas si bete,” gurgled Denys.
 
Seeing the sort of stuff he had to deal with, Gerard was hopeful and calm directly. “On thy back,” said he sharply, and seizing the arbalest, and taking a stroke forward, he aided the desired movement. “Hand on my shoulder! slap the water with the other hand! No—with a downward motion; so. Do nothing more than I bid thee.” Gerard had got hold of Denys's long hair, and twisting it hard, caught the end between his side teeth, and with the strong muscles of his youthful neck easily kept up the soldier's head, and struck out lustily across the current. A moment he had hesitated which side to make for, little knowing the awful importance of that simple decision; then seeing the west bank a trifle nearest, he made towards it, instead of swimming to jail like a good boy, and so furnishing one a novel incident. Owing to the force of the current they slanted³ considerably⁴, and when they had covered near a hundred yards, Denys murmured uneasily, “How much more of it?”
 
“Courage,” mumbled⁵ Gerard. “Whatever a duck knows, a Dutchman knows; art safe as in bed.”
 
The next moment, to their surprise, they found themselves in shallow water, and so waded⁶ ashore⁷. Once on terra firma, they looked at one another from head to foot as if eyes could devour⁸, then by one impulse flung each an arm round the other's neck, and panted there with hearts too full to speak. And at this sacred moment life was sweet as heaven to both; sweetest perhaps to the poor exiled lover, who had just saved his friend. Oh, joy to whose height what poet has yet soared, or ever tried to soar? To save a human life; and that life a loved one. Such moments are worth living for, ay, three score years and ten. And then, calmer, they took hands, and so walked along the bank hand in hand like a pair of sweethearts, scarce knowing or caring whither they went.
 
The boat people were all safe on the late concave, now convex craft, Herr Turnip-face, the “Inverter of things,” being in the middle. All this fracas⁹ seemed not to have essentially¹⁰ deranged¹¹ his habits. At least he was greeting when he shot our friends into the Rhine, and greeting when they got out again.
 
“Shall we wait till they right the boat?”
 
“No, Denys, our fare is paid; we owe them nought¹². Let us on, and briskly.”
 
Denys assented¹³, observing that they could walk all the way to Cologne on this bank.
 
“I fare not to Cologne,” was the calm reply.
 
“Why, whither then?”
 
“To Burgundy.”
 
“To Burgundy? Ah, no! that is too good to be sooth.”
 
“Sooth 'tis, and sense into the bargain. What matters it to me how I go to Rome?”
 
“Nay¹⁴, nay; you but say so to pleasure me. The change is too sudden; and think me not so ill-hearted as take you at your word. Also did I not see your eyes sparkle at the wonders of Cologne? the churches, the images, the relics¹⁵
 
“How dull art thou, Denys; that was when we were to enjoy them together. Churches! I shall see plenty, go Rome-ward how I will. The bones of saints and martyrs¹⁶; alas¹⁷! the world is full of them; but a friend like thee, where on earth's face shall I find another? No, I will not turn thee farther from the road that leads to thy dear home, and her that pines for thee. Neither will I rob myself of thee by leaving thee. Since I drew thee out of Rhine I love thee better than I did. Thou art my pearl: I fished thee; and must keep thee. So gainsay¹⁸ me not, or thou wilt¹⁹ bring back my fever; but cry courage, and lead on; and hey for Burgundy!”
 
Denys gave a joyful²⁰ caper²¹. “Courage! va pour la Bourgogne. Oh! soyes tranquille! cette fois il est bien decidement mort, ce coquin-la.” And they turned their backs on the Rhine.
 
On this decision making itself clear, across the Rhine there was a commotion²² in the little party that had been watching the discussion, and the friends had not taken many steps ere a voice came to them over the water. “HALT!”
 
Gerard turned, and saw one of those four holding out a badge of office and a parchment slip. His heart sank; for he was a good citizen, and used to obey the voice that now bade him turn again to Dusseldorf—the Law's.
 
Denys did not share his scruples²⁴. He was a Frenchman, and despised every other nation, laws, inmates²⁵, and customs included. He was a soldier, and took a military view of the situation. Superior force opposed; river between; rear open; why, 'twas retreat made easy. He saw at a glance that the boat still drifted in mid-stream, and there was no ferry nearer than Dusseldorf. “I shall beat a quick retreat to that hill,&rdqu............