She ran fast, and the wind, which was now at her back, helped her. She was a very swift runner, and, notwithstanding the yielding nature of the sands, she made rapid progress. With panting breath and hair flying wildly under her hat, she soon came up to the promontory which she had to round in order to reach a place of safety. At ten yards distant she stood still, clasping her hands. She did not yet realize the danger of her own position. Her eyes sparkled, and she almost laughed at the majestic beauty of the scene. The angry waves had already reached the headland, and were dashing with bursts of magnificent spray over the sharp rocks.
"I never, even in Ireland, saw such waves," said Kate to herself. "How glorious! Oh, that I could write about them! They fill my heart; such beauty as this quite satisfies me."
Then a thought, cold and dreadful, stole over her delight.
"The way home is completely shut away!" she cried.
The thought first stole into her brain, then it crept down, down, until it reached her heart.
"Have I got to die here? Am I to be drowned?" she said to herself. "I am only seventeen, and I am full of life. Oh, is this the way out of my dilemma? And I don't want to die. I am not a coward, no; but I don't want to die, slowly and fearfully, and all alone, and with this awful noise in my ears. To die by drowning means suffocation. No, I don't want to die."
There was not a creature in sight. The towering cliffs rose between her and safety. They were rugged and straight, and impossible to climb. The belt of sand on which she stood was each moment getting narrower and narrower. She made a careful calculation: at the present rate of the in-coming tide, she had probably about an hour and a half to live.
"I must go back to the cave," she said to herself. "Perhaps, if I climb up on that ledge where the skeletons are, I may find myself above high-water mark. But I know the signs; I have not lived close to the Atlantic all my life for nothing. There will be a specially high tide to-day."