was above it now; now it had departed, leaving him like a stranded fish
upon the shingle. For half a minute or more he lay there gasping, then
looked behind him to see another comber approaching through the
gloom. He struggled to his feet, fell, rose again, and ran, or rather,
staggered forward with that tigerish water hissing at his heels.
Forward, still forward, till he was beyond its reach--yes, on dry
sand. Then his vital forces failed him; one of his legs gave way, and,
bleeding from a hundred hurts, he fell heavily onto his face, and there
was still.

The boat in which Benita lay, being so deep in the water, proved
very hard to row against the tide, for the number of its passengers
encumbered the oarsmen. After a while a light off land breeze sprang
up, as here it often does towards morning; and the officer, Thompson,
determined to risk hoisting the sail. Accordingly this was done--with
some difficulty, for the mast had to be drawn out and shipped--although
the women screamed as the weight of the air bent their frail craft over
till the gunwale was almost level with the water.

"Anyone who moves shall be thrown overboard!" said the officer, who
steered, after which they were quiet.

Now they made good progress seawards, but the anxieties of those who
knew were very great, since the wind showed signs of rising, and if any
swell should spring up that crowded cutter could scarcely hope to live.
In fact, two hours later they were forced to lower the sail again and
drift, waiting for the dawn. Mr. Thompson strove to cheer them, saying
that now they were in the track of vessels, and if they could see none
when the light came, he would run along the shore in the hope of finding
a place free of breakers where they might land. If they did not inspire