No, so they thought—still, they must have been blind not to see that foe of foes, which will not be repulsed nor stayed, stealing up and up, and hemming them in. They must have been blind, as Dick said, shouting out to them from above their heads.
What had happened? The tide—a high one to-night—had shut them in; the waters were already beat-beating against a jutting rock, which made a bend in the shore on their one side; on their other the sea lay a wide waste of [p128] water; there was no retreating or fleeing, for the tide had shut them in.
Up the rocks they must go, or——the boys held their breath at this point, talking together above, where the sunlight still glinted about them, though the grey evening shadows were upon the little band of terrified maidens, wringing their hands, pale-faced and with startled eyes, looking this way and that, and seeing no way of escape.
“Oh, Dick! what can we do? You surely know some way to get us away?” cried Jenny.
But Dick shook his head.
“There is but one way: and that is, you must come up the rocks, and in pretty quick time too—see that!” A defiant wave broke not far from them, and dashed its spray over them. “As for old Rameses, he’s safe round the corner, where you ought to be; but if we were to go down and try to wade in to you on his back, he’d never do it. He’s game for anything a donkey can do, but not for that.” So that forlorn hope had to be given up.
“They must come up here: that’s their only chance,” said Oscar.
[p129]
“But how?” was Dick’s answer.
“I must try to go down and fetch them up,” was the other’s reply, with paling cheeks but resolute eyes.
“Yes,” said Dick, peering down; “and if we could land them on that ledge of rock down there, ’twould be something; the tide may not reach that—at least, not yet.” There was a friendly ledge of rock, not so far above where the girls stood. “But why should you go down? Let me,” volunteered ready Dick.