The tide's rising.

My house is just above here." He led the way along the slippery foreshore until he found what he sought, a foot-track slanting up the cliff.

Here he gave the sailor a hand and they mounted together.

On the grass slope above they met the gale and were forced to drop on their hands and knees and crawl, Taffy leading and shouting instructions, the sailor answering each with "Ay, ay, mate!" to show that he understood.
But about half-way up these answers ceased, and Taffy, looking round and calling, found himself alone.

He groped his way back for twenty yards, and found the man stretched on his face and moaning.
"I can't.