This quenched her last audacity, although she was not hurt; and jumping up nimbly, she made all haste through the rising water toward her pony.

But as she would not forsake her bag, and the rocks became more and more slippery, towering higher and higher surges crashed in over the barrier, and swelled the yeasty turmoil which began to fill the basin; while a scurry of foam flew like pellets from the rampart, blinding even the very best young eyes.
Mary began to lose some of her presence of mind and familiar approval of the sea.

She could swim pretty well, from her frequent bathing; but swimming would be of little service here, if once the great rollers came over the bar, which they threatened to do every moment.

And when at length she fought her way to the poor old pony, her danger and distress were multiplied.

Lord Keppel was in a state of abject fear; despair was knocking at his fine old heart; he was up to his knees in the loathsome brine already, and being so twisted up by his own exertions that to budge another inch was beyond him, he did what a horse is apt to do in such condition--he consoled himself with fatalism.