"Where are they?" shouted Hugh Morgan. "Show me, for heaven's sake, for I am blind and mad, I think!"
"There, there, Mishteer," explained several voices at once; "out there where the floating buoy is fastened."
And Hugh, catching sight of the rolling figures for a moment, dashed headlong into the waves, in spite of the restraining hands of his workmen, who thought he was going to certain death.
"Mishteer, Mishteer! come back!" cried 'n'wncwl Jos; but Hugh did not hear. Already he was caught in the swirling waters, and the old man, forgetting everything but his frenzied fear for the Mishteer's life, dashed in after him, but only to be caught on the crest of a thundering wave, and to be rolled over and over like a cork on the foaming waters. The sea would have none of them that day, the strong tide and the fierce wind both setting landwards.
'N'wncwl Jos was quickly carried in far enough for Dye Pentraeth to grasp him and drag him into safety.
"Come up, thou old fool!" he said. "Dost think we can do without thee and thy wooden leg?"
'N'wncwl Jos shook himself like a wet dog, and would have rushed in again had he not seen Hugh at that moment flung like a broken spar on the beach. He rose in a minute, and as he rose he saw the forms of Ivor and Gwladys borne in on a crest of a wave, and left upon the sands almost at his feet. They were at a little distance from the small crowd, Gwen alone stooping with Hugh over the sodden figures.
"Who is mad now? Gwen or Hugh Morgan?" she asked, in biting, sneering tones. "Let them alone, Mishteer,"—and she laid her hand on his fingers, which were already endeavouring to loosen the strong grip of the half-drowned Ivor and Gwladys—"let them alone; 'tis as it should be!" she added.
"Away, you devil!" cried Hugh, battling with his bitter agony. And Gwen left him with one of her usual fits of laughter.
Hugh's fingers trembled visibly as he loosened the coils of Gwladys' brown hair, which had twisted round and round Ivor's face.