But the sharp flavour of the gale acted like a tonic. The limp body stretched and wriggled and gripped the arm that held it. "Aw reet?" shouted the hoarse voice in his ear, and when Jim tried to reply the gale drove the words back into his throat. The boat was still tumbling heavily in the surf. All about them was howling darkness, faintly lightened by the rushing sheets of foam. Jim felt himself dragged to the side, and then they were wrestling, waist deep, with the terrible backward rush of the surf. His feet were swept from under him, but an iron hand gripped his arm and anchored him till he felt the sand again. Then a thundering wave swirled them on, and they were able to crawl up a steep, hard bank of sand on their hands and knees. They lay there panting, while the gale howled and the white waves gnashed at them like wild beasts ravening for their prey. And Jim felt cleaner and better than he had done since he boarded the smack. He turned to his rescuer and laid hold of his arm. "Who is it?" he shouted. "Me--Seth," came the hoarse reply into his ear, and he had never in his life felt so glad of a friendly voice, though he would not have known it was young Seth's voice if he had not said so. For their position was terrifying enough. It was still too dark to see where they were, except that they were on a bank, with the roar and shriek of the gale all about them. Young Seth stood up to see, if he could, what had become of the others. But he was down flat again in a moment. "I connot see nowt," he shouted. "Are we safe here, Seth?"--as a vicious white arm came reaching up the slope at them. "Tide's goin' down." So they lay and waited, and it was good for Jim that night that his life on the flats had hardened him somewhat to the weather. He was soaked to the bones, and the spindrift stung like a whip. But he was so utterly spent with his previous sickness that his heavy eyes closed, and he dozed into horrible nightmares and woke each time with a start and a sob. And then he found himself warmer, and thought the gale had slackened; but it was young Seth's burly body lying between him and the wind, and he was drawn up close into young Seth's arms, and there he went fast asleep. He woke at last into a sober gray light and a great stillness. The wind had dropped and the sea had fallen back behind its distant barriers. When he stretched and sat up he could see nothing but sand--endless stretches of brown sea-sand, with the dull gleam of water here and there. He got on to his feet and felt his bones creak as if they wanted oiling, and young Seth stood up too and kicked his legs and arms about to take the kinks out. "Where are we, Seth?" asked Jim, with a gasp. "I dunnot know. We ran like the divvle last neet. Mebbe when th' sun comes out we'll see." "Land's over yonder, anyway," he said presently. "But it's a divvle of a way and mos'ly stick-sands, I reck'n."