She looked across to the further shore again, and all at once it seemed impossible to let Garth make the attempt.
“No! no! You can't go!” she exclaimed.
“You wouldn't be nervous at being alone here?” he asked doubtfully.
She stamped her foot.
“No! Of course not! But—oh! Don't you see? It's madness to think of swimming across with the tide against you! You could never do it. You might get cramp—Oh! Anything might happen! You shan't go!”
She caught his arm impetuously, her eyes dilating with the sudden terror that had laid hold of her. But he was obdurate.
“Look there,” he said, pointing to a faint haze thickening the atmosphere. “Do you see the mist coming up? Very soon it will be all over us, like a blanket, and there'd be no possibility of swimming across at all. I must go at once.”
“But that only adds to the danger,” she argued desperately. “The fog may come down sooner than you expect, and then you'd lose your bearings altogether.”
“I must risk that,” he answered grimly. “Don't you realize that it's impossible—impossible for us to remain here?”
“No, I don't,” she returned stubbornly. “It isn't worth such a frightful risk. Some one is sure to look for us eventually.”