Anything being better than standing still doing nothing, they set up the mast, and got the old brown sail ready for hoisting. Everything was now in, when Magdalen suddenly exclaimed,-- "Why, see how fast the tide is rising! It is already past that reef of rocks there! It won’t be nearly as long before she floats as we thought." The tide was indeed rising fast, and the distant reef of rocks had disappeared entirely. A few jagged peaks were sticking up here and there on some of the higher patches of rock, soon to be hidden by the inrushing tide, leaving their sharp points a few feet below the surface, with nothing to show their dangerous position. The sun was setting over the low, sandy shore on the western side of the bay. The long shadows of some of the strangely-shaped rocks stretched far across the yellow sand, and the shrill cry of the sea-mew called to its mate. In a few minutes more the sun would set, and the grey mist of the sea would come creeping over the hot land from the cool ocean. The tide had now reached the boat; the anchor was already covered. "Get in Magdalen," said her father; "we will stay to push her off, if may be." Sir George and Ralph had both taken off their shoes, and, bare-legged, were standing in the fast rising tide. Suddenly Magdalen saw a shadow moving over the sand--she looked round. "Oh father, there they are," she cried in horror. *CHAPTER XXVIII.* *HOW THE SEA MIST ROSE IN TERQUETE BAY.* The startled cry of Magdalen called the attention of the others to the shadows flitting over the sand. There, against the red glory of the departed sun, were figures of horsemen looming up on the dark line of jagged rocks which edged the western sky. "There are three, four, five--ay, a dozen or more, and they are coming apace. Up with the sail, Ralph," cried Sir George Lisle, jumping into the boat. There was already a foot or more of water all round her, and the sea spreading out over the flat sand made the boat look as if she were far out in deep water. The sail was run up the mast, and Ralph, still in the water, pushed with all his might, while Sir George Lisle hauled hard at the warp. "She’s moving, she’s moving," cried Magdalen, in an ecstasy of excitement, jumping about, and trying to help with an oar. At the same time, a fierce cry came over the water, and the distant sparkles on the edge of the ripples told of a horseman having plunged into the sea. "Push, push," cried Magdalen, "or they will be here after all." They strained and tugged, but the boat would not move. The splashes sounded nearer, the fierce cries became louder. "Oh! oh! if only there were quicksands," cried Magdalen. "There are," said her father. "The bay is full of them as the tide rises."