"What time is it now?" asked Patty.

Muriel consulted the little watch which she wore in a strap on her wrist.

"Exactly six o'clock," she replied.

"Then it will be high tide about eight or nine, I suppose, and I don't think it will be low again until nearly midnight, or early in the morning."

"How dreadful! Won't anybody come to fetch us off?"

"I don't see how they could reach us. Look at the sea! It's rushing between the rocks like a mill-race. Any ordinary boat would be dashed to pieces, and there's no lifeboat at Moorcliffe."

Muriel shuddered. The water had indeed overflowed the whole of the sandbank, and now swirled in a foaming current round the foot of their retreat, rising every moment a little nearer to them. Following the tide had come a dense sea fog, that drifted down the bay, veiling the sun, and, creeping round the rock, wrapped the girls in its clammy, concealing folds, cutting them off effectually from all possibility of being seen from the neighbouring cliff. In a few minutes the whole prospect was blotted out; they seemed in a world of white mist, as absolutely isolated and alone as if they were in mid-ocean. Trembling with fear, Muriel turned to Patty.

"Do you think anybody knows where we are?" she asked.

"I can't say. Vera and the others would, of course, tell Miss Lincoln, but she wouldn't know exactly where to look, and no one could find us in this fog."

"Do you think the sea'll rise any higher?"

"Yes, a little. It can hardly be full tide yet."

"Patty! I don't know whether I shall be able to swim with my hurt foot.

Suppose the water comes right over the rock, you won't leave me like the others did, will you?"

"Never!" said Patty, putting her arm round her cousin. "We'll either both get safely to land, or both go down together."

"Will you promise?"

"Faithfully."

"Thank you. I know you always keep your promises," said Muriel.

She did not speak again for a long time, but sat holding Patty's hand tightly, and gazing under a horrible fascination at the green, foam-flecked water that was creeping so stealthily nearer to them. How cold it looked, and how cruel! How easily it could swirl away their light weights, and dash them against those jagged points opposite, or sweep them out into the midst of those long waves, the white crests of which were just dimly visible through the wall of fog! Inch by inch it rose; it was only a foot now from the top of the rock, far above the line which they had supposed was high-water mark.

"I think we had better both take off our tennis shoes," said Patty. "If we're obliged to swim, you could perhaps manage to float, and I could pull you along."

"Patty, aren't you terribly afraid?"

"No, not very. Not so much as I thought I should be."

There was silence for a few minutes, and then Muriel said:

"I can't think how it is you're not afraid."

"Because G.o.d can take care of us here as well as anywhere else,"

answered Patty, quietly.

"Do you really think He will?"

"I'm going to ask Him now."

"Then so will I," said Muriel, kneeling by her side on the rock.

"Lighten our darkness, we beseech Thee, O Lord, and by Thy great mercy defend us from all perils and dangers of this night."

How often they had repeated the familiar collect in church or at evening prayers in the big schoolroom at The Priory, sometimes with little thought for its meaning; and how different it sounded now in the midst of the real peril and danger that surrounded them! A great wave came suddenly dashing up and poured over their feet, and the two trembling girls looked with white faces as the shoes, which they had taken off and laid beside them, were swept away and lost in the depths below. Many fresh thoughts came to Muriel then--thoughts such as had rarely troubled her before. In the mist and the rushing water her old standards seemed to be slipping from her; wealth and position felt of slight value compared to those better things about which she had hitherto cared so little: and I think, with the surging tide, some of her old self pa.s.sed away, and left a new self born in its place.

"It's going down!" cried Patty at last. "That one wave was the high-water mark. Look! It's certainly lower than it was."

"Then we're saved!" exclaimed Muriel; and, breaking down utterly, she covered her face with her hands, and burst into a storm of tears.

The tide was undoubtedly on the turn; each wave seemed less forceful than the last, and though they were still surrounded by water, and likely to be kept prisoners for many hours yet, they could consider themselves free from danger, and feel that their lives had been spared.

Time crept slowly on; fortunately, owing to the length of the July day, it was not yet dark, but the fog had not lifted, and they were not able to see even so far as the adjoining rocks. Their clothes were wet through with spray, and they felt damp, and chilly, and forlorn. Both girls had been tired out with their long day's pleasure before they were caught by the tide, and the hours of waiting seemed interminable.

Muriel, exhausted with fright and exposure, clung piteously to Patty, crying quietly, and the latter gave her what comfort she had to offer.

"The water's halfway down the rock already," she said. "In another hour we may be able to reach the sh.o.r.e, if only the mist would clear."

"My foot still hurts," said Muriel. "I don't believe I shall be able to limp a step."

"Perhaps a boat will come to find us, now the tide's not so high. I'm sure Miss Lincoln would send somebody to look."

"You don't think she would go home without us, then?"

"Oh, no! I'm quite certain she wouldn't. Someone would miss us, and then she would ask who had seen us last."

"Do you think Kitty and Maud and Vera would tell? Perhaps they'd be ashamed of having left us."

"They'd be obliged to tell. I expect if it hadn't been for the fog we should have been found before. If you leant your head against me, could you go to sleep?"

"No, not with the water still so near," said Muriel, shuddering. "I must just sit still, and wait, and wait, and wait."

Half an hour more pa.s.sed; the girls were too weary to care to talk, but at last Muriel spoke again.

"Patty," she said, suddenly, "I want to tell you a secret. It's something I ought to have told long ago, only I didn't dare. That Caesar translation belonged to me."

"I thought it did," said Patty, calmly.

"You thought so! Oh, Patty! How did you know?"

"Because I saw you slip it into your desk that afternoon I came so unexpectedly into the schoolroom. I recognized the green cover the moment Miss Harper held it up."

"And yet you never said anything about it?"

"No."

"Not to anybody? Not even to Enid?"

"No, not even to Enid. I wasn't certain, and if I had been I wouldn't have told."