thud on the beach below and
a scuffle of stones; silence again, and then the cracking of twigs as
Taffy plunged after, through the tamarisks, and slithered down the
cliff.

The light died down as his feet touched the flat slippery stones;
died down, and was renewed again and showed up horse and rider scarce
twenty yards ahead, labouring forward, the mare sinking fetlock deep
at every plunge.

At his fourth stride Taffy's feet, too, began to sink, but at every
stride he gained something. The riding may be superb, but thirteen
stone is thirteen stone. Taffy weighed less than eleven.

He caught up with George on the very edge of the water. "Make her
swim it!" he panted. "Her feet mustn't touch here." George grunted.
A moment later all three were in the water, the tide swirling them
sideways, sweeping Taffy against the mare. His right hand touched
her flank at every stroke.

The tide swept them upwards--upwards for fifteen yards at least,
though the channel measured less than eight feet. The child, who had
been standing opposite the point where they took the water, hobbled
wildly along shore. The light on the cliff behind sank and rose
again.

"The crutch," Taffy gasped. The child obeyed, laying it flat on the
brink and pushing it toward them. Taffy gripped it with his left
hand, and with his right found the mare's bridle. George was bending
forward.

"No--not that way! You can't get back! The wreck, man!--it's
firmer--"

But George reached out his hand and dragged the child towards him and
on to his saddle-bow. "Mine," he said quietly, and twitched the
rein. The brave mare snorted, jerked the bridle from Taffy's hand,
and headed back for the shore she had left.

Rider, horse, and child seemed to fall away from him into the night.
He scrambled out, and snatching the crutch ran along the brink,
staring at their black shadows. By-and-by the shadows came to a
standstill. He heard the mare panting, the creaking of
saddle-leather came across the nine or ten feet of dark water.

"It's no go," said George's voice; then to the mare, "Sally, my dear,
it's no go." A moment later he asked more sharply:

"How far can you reach?"

Taffy stepped in until the waves ran by his knees. The sand held his
feet, but beyond this he could not stand against the current.
He reached forward holding the crutch at arm's length.

"Can you catch hold?"

"All right." Both knew that swimming would be useless now; the