The little girl was not certain of that; however, she held her peace and walked ahead of the boys in the direction of the point which hid the cove from sight of the village of Lynn. By-and-by she turned and came running back. "It's no good going on," she informed them, a startled expression in her eyes, "for the tide's come in, and—and—" She paused, looking anxiously at the cliffs which she knew they would now be obliged to climb, and she shuddered as she reflected how easily she became giddy. "I wish we'd turned back before," she added with a tremble in her voice.
The boys hastened on to the point, but they could not get around it, for, as Polly had represented to them, the sea had come in, and they were cut off from Lynn. However, they were not in the least dismayed.
"This is something like an adventure," Roger said as he and his cousin joined his sister again. "Why, Polly, how scared you look! We can easily get home by the cliffs."
"You may, but I can't," Polly replied despondently. "I shall be sure to get giddy and fall."
"Oh, nonsense!" her brother exclaimed impatiently. "You'll be all right. I'll go ahead and give you a hand. It will be rare fun, you'll see."
Polly doubted it, and the expression of her face was so dolorous that her companions both burst out laughing. Greatly offended, she turned from them and made her way towards the base of the cliffs, her figure held very upright—as though she had swallowed a poker, as she heard Roger tell Edgar—and her heart indignant against her brother and cousin alike. Her eyes were full of angry tears which blurred her sight; and perhaps that accounted for what followed; for, suddenly, she slipped on a piece of seaweed and fell, twisting her ankle as she did so.
"Oh, Polly, you should be more careful!" exclaimed Roger as he darted forward and assisted his sister to get up. She clung to him for a minute, then sank back on the ground. "What's the matter?" he asked anxiously.
"I've hurt my foot, Roger; I can't go any further."
"But, Polly, you must," he insisted, with a swift glance seawards.
"And I tell you I can't," she said, beginning to cry. "I can't walk, it—it hurts me."