Try how he would, after some struggle with his captive it was impossible to help feeling a chill of dread, for he knew that he was swimming more laboriously, and that his limbs were like so much lead; but still he struggled on.  Every now and then, too, the water washed over his face, telling him that his position was lower, and at last, when all seemed to be over and his strength was ebbing away, he raised his head for a last farewell look-out for help, and one of his hands struck against a rock.