He thought then that the angry swirling of the sea became more infuriated; that the swell of the waves was greater. Far in the distance he heard the inhuman, piercing shriek of the sea-gulls.
"Who's that there, Sally?"
"It's—me."
He saw that both of the men in the smack leaned toward him.
"What?"
"It's—it's—me."
"You!"
"Go on back, Pa;—Will, make him—go on back. Get the others to go;—please—Pa;—please."
For answer he heard the man's shout to the other boats about the nets.
"Storm—lads;—make—for—shore."