“There—oh, Uncle Will, quite close—for a minute—when the spindrift cleared—”
They all surged forward. His uncle was down on the lower step with a leap, and as he stood the sea broke to his knee. There was nothing but the flying spray and the sting of the sand.
“He saw naught at all.”
“Back, I tell ye. Keep hold of the child. He’s all crazy-like—”
Launce was sobbing and screaming to follow his uncle. “I saw them, I tell you—quite close—”
The maid who had cried before tossed her arms and shrieked against the wind, her face white and wild. “Master Geoffrey—he’s there—”
“What’s got the silly wench?”
“Maybe she’s right. And her ladyship, you fool?”
“Aye, there’s two—”
And in a moment they saw them, clear and close under the wall of the lower terrace, fighting forward foot by foot. The horses huddled so near together they could not see one from the other, but Geoffrey rode on the outside, sheltering Lucia, and it seemed that his arm was round her, either to hold her in the saddle or to catch her from it if need were. Then the scud hid them.