She filled her lungs with air and sent one long cry for help ringing across the sea.

A moment passed and she thought that she heard an answer, but because of the wind and the roar of the breakers she could not be sure.

Then she turned and glanced seaward.

Again the foaming terror was rushing down upon them; again she flung herself upon the rock and grasping the slippery seaweed twined her left arm about the helpless Geoffrey.
It was on them.
Oh, horror! Even in the turmoil of the boiling waters Beatrice felt the seaweed give.

Now they were being swept along with the rushing wave, and Death drew very near.