She soon realised it was too dangerous a venture. The slimy seaweed
underneath caused her to slip, and the strong swirl of the tide nearly
swept her from her feet. With difficulty she splashed back again.

"We might swim it!" she suggested. "But what about our clothes?"

Mavis shook her head.

"We can't cross there till the tide goes down."

"Are we going to be drowned?" asked Romola, in a tremulous little voice.

"Certainly not!"--Mavis sounded quite calm and sensible--"we're safe
enough here, but we're in a jolly nasty fix. We can sit above high-water
mark, but it means staying till the tide goes down and that won't be for
hours, and then it will be dark and how can we see to scramble up the
cliffs?"

"I suppose we've got to wait till morning!" groaned Fay. "This is
_some_ adventure at any rate!"

"Rather more than most of us bargained for!" agreed Beata.

"I wouldn't care a nickel, only Mother'll be in such a state of mind when
I don't turn up!"

"And Uncle David will be waiting to go home in the car. I wonder what
he'll do?"