the last ten steps they were up to their knees in water--but they were
on the rock.

'Quick! quick!' said the girl; '_there_ is the passage to the Cross at
the top; but if the second wave comes we shall be too late.'

She scrambled on for a hundred yards till she came to a crack in the
rock, six or seven feet wide, along which the water was rushing like a
mill-sluice. With some difficulty they reached the upper rocks,
carrying the fisher-girl in their arms, and wading above their knees in
water. Here they rest a moment--when a great wave rolls in, and the
water runs along the little platform where they are sitting; they all
rise, and mounting the rocky points (which the little Granvillaise
assures them are never quite covered with water), cluster together for
support. In a few moments the suspense is over, the girl points to the
shore, where they can hear the distant sound of a cheer, and see people
waving their handkerchiefs.

'They think the tide has turned,' says the girl, 'and they are shouting
to cheer us.'

She was right, the tide had turned. Another wave came and wetted their
feet, but when it had passed the water had fallen, and in five minutes
the platform was again dry!

The fisherwomen of Granville are famed for their beauty, industry, and
courage; we, certainly, have not seen such eyes, excepting at Cadiz,
and never have we seen so many active hard-working old women. The women
seem to do everything here--the 'boatmen' are women, and the fishermen
young girls.