"Impossible!" exclaimed Phœbe, without any doubt in her voice. "We should be dashed to bits in that rough sea. There isn't a spot where we could land, even if we could struggle across. It would simply be madness."
"I don't want to try!" declared Aldred, with a shudder. "I can't swim, to begin with; and even if I could, I shouldn't venture through those waves. But what are we going to do?"
"Stop here till we can get off, I suppose," said Phœbe, shrugging her shoulders. "There's nothing else for it. We're in no particular danger, that's one comfort!"
"Let us climb higher up on to the rocks, and perhaps we may find some place a little out of the rain," proposed Myfanwy.
After considerable hunting about, they did at last come upon a ledge that shelved over so as to form a kind of cave; and creeping underneath, they squatted as close together as they could.
They were feeling the very reverse of jolly. It seemed anything but delightful to be sitting in a cramped position, wet through, without the chance of a meal, and with the prospect of spending perhaps the whole night in such unenviable surroundings.
"I'd give a great deal to be back in the classroom, learning my German prep.!" groaned Dora.
"I suppose an adventure never feels nice at the time," said Myfanwy.
"No. I can't help suspecting that Stanley, and Shackleton, and all the explorers didn't enjoy the fun of the thing until they got home and wrote books about it," agreed Aldred.
"It sounds so thrilling when you read it," continued Myfanwy; "but when you're cold and wet and hungry, it takes the romance away."