To go herself, rowing directly across in the dingey, would be the only security of success.

If she could do it?
It was a long pull--the sea was getting up--but she would try.
She waited until the last man had stepped into the boat, in nervous dread of some one remaining.

Then, when the boat had vanished round the Point again, she ran back to the cottage, arrayed herself in her husband's pilot coat, hat, and boots, and launched the dingey.

It was a heavy, slow, but luckily a stanch and seaworthy boat.

It was not until she was well off shore that she began to feel the full fury of the wind and waves, and knew the difficulty and danger of her undertaking.