The tension snapped. Why—how—he did not know; the hail still half blinded him. Yet he staggered to his feet, dragging her with him, and rushed forward, knee-deep in the water that filled the rapidly settling launch.
As he neared the bow a black wall sprang out of the gray mist. To Rosalind it seemed to rear itself to an impossible height. The launch lunged heavily toward it.
"Don't cling to me!" he shouted.
At the same instant she was lifted in his arms. As the boatman stepped out upon the slippery, staggering deck the black wall hung over her.
Rosalind felt herself tossed into the air. For what seemed an interminable period she hung suspended in space. Then something rose to meet her feet with a jarring shock. She was standing on a ledge.
Below her, even above the roar of the wind, came the sound of a heavy, crashing blow. The launch had struck. She knew what that meant. The boatman had given her the one chance!
With a gasping sob she whirled about and stepped to the edge of the rock.
"Sam!"
The hail beat upon her cheeks, but she did not feel it as she stared downward at the frothing water. There was no sign of the launch.
"Sam!"