The other shook heir head, but Leslie seized her by the hand.
"Come!" she gasped hoarsely. "Better to try and—and fall, than stand here to wait for death. I cannot wait! Come, hold my hand tightly. We will escape or die together."
As if she had caught something of Leslie's frantic desire of life, the other girl gripped Leslie's hand.
"Come on, then," she said. "Though you'd have more chance alone."
"No, no! Together or not at all," cried Leslie, and she plunged into the water.
For a moment or two it seemed as if they would be carried off their feet, as if they had rushed into the arms of the death from which they had been shrinking; but they were both young and strong, and they accomplished together that which would have been impossible if they had been separate.
Gasping for breath, half blinded by the spray, deafened by the roar of the waves, they stood on a narrow ledge of rock, clutching at the bush above their heads, the water rushing nearly to their knees.