"Let go," he shouted to Cora. "Try and throw yourself out this side, and I'll get you ashore." She only turned a dazed, despairing look in his direction, too much paralysed by the horror of her situation to even grasp his meaning. "All right, Master Linnell, sir," growled a deep voice. "Take it coolly, and we'll do it." Linnell glanced aside, and saw that the swarthy fisherman who had been shrimping was not a couple of yards behind him. "Look ye here, sir. Let the lady be. I'll go round t'other side. You go this. Mind they don't kick you. Take care. Wo-ho, my pretties; wo-ho, my lads," he cried to the ponies, as, perfectly at his ease in the water, he swam past their heads, well clear of their beating and pawing hoofs, and got to the other side. In cases of emergency, whether the order be right or wrong, one that is given by a firm, cool man is generally obeyed, and it was so here, for Linnell took a stroke or two forward towards the off-side pony, leaving Cora clinging to the front of the little carriage. "Wo-ho, my beauties. Steady, boys," cried the big fisherman soothingly. "Woa, lad, woa, then," cried Linnell, in imitation of his companion. The ponies, the moment before snorting and plunging desperately, seemed to gather encouragement from the voices, and ceasing their frantic efforts, allowed themselves to sink lower in the water, let their bits be seized, and with outstretched necks, and nostrils just clear of the water, began to swim steadily and well. "That's it, lads, steady it is!" cried the fisherman. "Lay out well clear of 'em, Master Linnell, sir. Mind they don't kick you. I'll steer 'em, and we shall do it. You hold on, mum; it's all right." Cora's head and shoulders were above the water and the ponies were swimming well now, and obeying the pressure of the fisherman's hand, though they needed little guidance now they were making steadily for the shore. "I thought they'd do it, Master Linnell, sir. Good boys, then. Good lads. Pity to let 'em drown," said the fisherman coolly. "Right," cried Linnell, easing the pony on his side by swimming with one hand. "Keep still, Miss Dean. We shall soon be ashore. There's no danger now. Yes, there is," he muttered. "Those boats." Cora turned her eyes upon him with a frightened look, but she was growing more calm, though she could not speak, and the ponies kept on snorting loudly as they swam on. "Keep quiet, will you, you fools!" grumbled Dick Miggles, as bursts of cheers kept rising from the pier, answered by a gathering crowd on the beach about where they were expected to land, while the cliff was now lined with people who had heard of the accident on the pier. "Here! hoy!" roared Dick Miggles, who had grasped the danger. "Wo-ho, my boys, I'm with you. It's all right." "Ahoy!" came from the nearest boat, whose occupants were rowing with all their might.