"The cowards! The mean cowards!" cried Muriel, white with anger and alarm. "Patty, are you going too?"
"Not without you," replied Patty, sturdily. "Here, I'll help you up, Muriel, and we must push on, even if we have to wade. Catch hold of my arm again, and try to walk."
"It hurts so; my foot won't hold me. Oh, the pain is so bad, I must stop for a minute!"
Patty looked round desperately. Their situation was indeed most dangerous. The one path to safety was already covered, and even if they were able to hurry on fast, it was doubtful whether they would be able to wade to the shore. They were cut off on every side, and their little island was each moment diminishing in size.
"We must climb on to these rocks," she exclaimed. "Let us scramble up the tallest; perhaps it may be above high-water mark. Put your arms round my neck, Muriel, and I'll carry you as well as I can."
Almost sinking under her cousin's weight, Patty staggered along till she reached the jagged, seaweed-covered rock, which she hoped might afford them a temporary place of security. Groaning with pain, Muriel managed with Patty's help to drag herself slowly to the summit.
"Why did I come?" she said. "It was all Vera's fault. She persuaded us to go, and then kept taking us a little farther and a little farther every time we wanted to turn back. We shall be drowned; I know we shall."
"I don't think so," returned Patty hopefully. "The top of the rock is quite dry, as if it weren't covered at high tide. I believe we shall be safe, only we may have to stop here for a very long while."
"Let us call for help," suggested Muriel.
Both girls shouted at the pitch of their voices again and again, but there was no response, except from the sea birds which they disturbed on the adjacent cliffs.