The gale was already passing away.

Although the wind still whistled with shrill violence it was more blustering than threatening.

The sea, too, though running very high, had retreated many yards from the spot where he had finally dropped, and its surface was no longer scourged with venomous spray.
Slowly and painfully he raised himself to a sitting posture, for he was bruised and stiff.

With his first movement he became violently ill.

He had swallowed much salt water, and it was not until the spasm of sickness had passed that he thought of the girl.
She had slipped from his breast as he rose, and was lying, face downwards, in the sand.