"Druan a Gwen, too!" said the women. "I hope he will reach her."
"He will reach her safe enough," said Hugh; "now that he has turned the point the tide will be with him; but coming back will be the difficulty!"
And with straining eyes they watched for the reappearance of the tiny craft.
"Where was the woman, Mishteer?"
"At the further end of the shore, standing straight against the rock. You can see her from 'The Ship' door; the tide must already have been up to her knees, poor soul! What frenzy made her go to Traeth-y-daran of all places? for she knew there was no returning from there!"
The rift in the clouds had grown larger, there was a streak of blue sky and a stream of sunlight shining through upon the troubled sea, and suddenly round the point and in a patch of light the boat appeared, labouring and tossing like a cockle shell upon the stormy waters. The sight was greeted by a loud shout from the crowd, which the roaring wind seemed to drive back into their throats.
Hugh's relief was intense, as deep as had been his terror, lest he might never see his friend again.
"God bless him!" he murmured, straining his eyes eagerly, while the little boat rose and fell between the billows; "there is Gwen in a grey heap at his feet."
And shout after shout from the people welcomed each appearance of the frail boat as it rose from the trough of the sea.
Will and Ivor rowed bravely; but skill was of little avail in such a storm. They had reached Traeth-y-daran in a lull of the wind, and, sheltered a little by the encircling rocks, had not found much difficulty in reaching the woman, who stood apparently calmly waiting her doom like a martyr at the stake.