The girl wept into her hands, and Cugel led her to the dock. He pulled close a fisherman's boat, ordered her aboard, threw in his loot. Untying the boat, he shipped oars and rowed out upon the lake. Marlinka was aghast. “The whirlpools will drown us! Have you lost your reason?”

“Not at all! I have studied the whirlpools with care and know precisely the range of each.”

Out upon the face of the lake moved Cugel, counting each stroke of his oars, and watching the stars. “Two hundred paces east ... a hundred paces north ... two hundred paces east... fifty paces south...”

So Cugel rowed while to right and left of them sounded the suck of whirling water. But the mist had gathered to blot out the stars and Cugel was forced to throw out the anchor. “This is well enough,” he said. “We are safe now, and there is much that lies between us.”

The girl shrank to her end of the boat. Cugel stepped astern and joined her. “Here I am, your spousel Are you not overjoyed that finally we are alone? My chamber at the inn was far more comfortable, but this boat will suffice.”

“No,” she whimpered. “Do not touch me! The ceremony was meaningless, a trick to persuade you to serve as Watchman.”

“For three-score years perhaps, until I rang the gong from utter desperation?”

“It is not my doing! I am guilty only of merriment! But what will become of Vull? No one watches, and the spell is broken!”

“So much the worse for the faithless folk of Vull! They have lost their treasure, their most beautiful maiden, and when day breaks Magnatz will march upon them.”

Marlinka uttered a poignant cry, which was muffled in the mist. “Never speak the cursed name!”

“Why not? I shall shout it across the water! I will inform Magnatz that the spell is gone, that now he may come for his revenge!”

“No, no, indeed not!”

“Then you must behave toward me as I expect.”

Weeping, the girl obeyed, and at last a wan red light filtering through the mist signaled dawn. Cugel stood up in the boat, but all landmarks were yet concealed.

Another hour passed; the sun was now aloft. The folk of Vull would discover that their Watchman was gone, and with him their treasure, Cugel chuckled, and now a breeze lifted the mists, revealing the landmarks he had memorized. He leapt to the bow and hauled on the anchor line, but to his annoyance the anchor had fouled itself.

He jerked, strained, and the line gave a trifle. Cugel pulled with all his strength. From below came a great bubbling. “A whirlpool!” cried Marlinka in terror.

“No whirlpool here,” panted Cugel, and jerked once more. The line seemed to relax and Cugel hauled in the rope. Looking over the side, he found himself staring into an enormous pale face. The anchor had caught in a nostril. As he looked the eyes blinked open.