Geoffrey heard of what had taken place, and hurried down to the cliff, and old Prawle was pointed out to him seated upon the pier, where the sea was already beginning to beat furiously as the wind rapidly gathered force. "Why, Prawle," he cried, when he had hurried down to his side, "what have you been doing?" "Doing, lad? Trying to do to him as he did to me and mine. He's got away," cried the old man, hoarsely; "but I'll have him yet." "Yes, but you must leave him to the law," cried Geoffrey. "Come: walk home with me. You must not take this into your own hands." "Come home!" said the old man, with a fierce look in his eye. "Yes, when I have seen him drown, for it will come to that before many hours are past." Finding him immovable, Geoffrey stayed by the old man's side till they were driven back to the head of the harbour by the waves that now dashed right over the wall where they had been standing but a few minutes before; and from thence Prawle, after some three hours' watching, climbed to the cliff, where he leaned over the iron rail and gazed out to sea through his hands, held telescope fashion. "She's labouring hard," he said, with a grim chuckle, "and they've taken in all sail they can. Look yonder, Trethick: see. There, I told you so. Tom Jennen's give it up, and he'll run for the harbour now." Geoffrey strained his eyes to try and make out what the old man had described; but he could only dimly see the two-masted vessel far out in the hazy spray, and that she was tossing up and down, for the sea was rising still, and the wind rapidly increasing to almost hurricane force. Old Prawle was right, as the excitement upon the cliff showed, for, after hours of brave effort, the crew of the lugger had proved the hopelessness of their task, and were now running for home. What had been a long and weary fight in the teeth of the wind resolved itself into quite a short run, with scarcely any sail hoisted, and the great white-topped waves seeming to chase the buoyant lugger as she raced for shelter from the storm. The fishermen stood watching her through the haze, and shook their heads as they glanced down at the harbour, where the rocks were now bare, now covered by the huge waves that thundered amidst them, tossing the great boulders over and over as if they had been pebbles, and leaving them to rumble back with a noise like thunder, but only to be cast up again. All the eastern side of the bay was now a sheet of white foam, which the wind caught up and sent flying inland like yeast; and so fierce was the wind now in its more furious gusts, that posts, corners, rocks, and the lee of boats were sought by the watchers as shelter from the cutting blast.