"'Tis all no use, sir," says he gloomily. "For why? I can't swim."
This was a difficulty I had not foreseen. How is it, I wonder, that
so many men who go down to the sea in ships do not master that most
useful art--the very first, one would think, that should engage
their attention? 'Twas true, the depth of water above the mud in
the moat was so little that even the best swimmer would be at a bad
pass; but I hoped that with the coming of the spring rains this
would be remedied. Yet if Punchard and any of the others were
unable to swim, the moat would be impassable were it dredged to the
bottom; and since we must descend the rope singly, and the water
came right up to the wall, I could not see for the life of me how
this disability could be got over.
Finding our purpose thus stopped in this direction (though but for
a time, for my resolution was in nowise weakened), I began to
devote myself earnestly to what I had felt all along was the
crux--the breaking through the wall. So deeply was I preoccupied
with this baffling problem that I fear I clattered my bones but
half heartedly in our musical concerts. Yet it was during one of
these concerts that some good genie flashed upon my invention a
plan which promised (if it could be carried out) to solve the very
difficulty I had almost given up as insoluble. I say it was a good
genie that suggested the idea to me, for, looking back upon it, I
can account for it in no other way.
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