In spite of his cheery words, when they got out into the more open sea the waves ran so high, and the fierce pressure of the wind was so strong, that Mrs Lascelles looked round her in terror. Their boat seemed as if it could be nothing but a plaything between these mighty powers. Now and then the priest murmured words which they could not distinguish; the boy crouched, a brown heap, on a pile of brown nets in the stern; the two men--the old and the young--with strong, set faces, worked steadily at their oars. Hard rowing was not necessary, for the wind swept them along; but there were cross currents, and these were dangerous seas; and the threatening gloom of the sky, touched here and there with a lurid light, and the strong rush of the waves with their scud of flying foam, made Mrs Lascelles glance at her daughter with a tightening of her heart. As for Kitty herself, the girl sat leaning a little forward. Her mother's hand had sought hers, and Kitty had clasped it with both her own. Her hood had been blown a little back from her face, and her sweet eyes were fixed upon the shore towards which they were driving. Not a shadow of fear had touched them, as the mother saw with a little sigh; nay, the next moment the girl turned and looked at her with a smile. Meanwhile, as they rapidly neared the shore, it became evident that some anxiety was aroused in the little village, for half a dozen men and women had collected near the landing-place, their figures blurred and dimmed by the rain and mist. Old Stevan, too, seemed uneasy. He stopped rowing at last, just keeping the boat's course with his oar, and exchanged a few words with Everitt. The _cure_ bent forward and put a question; Mrs Lascelles tightened her clasp on Kitty's hand. It was easy to see that the danger lay in attempting to land. The landing-place was merely a little run between rocks at the best of times, and at present, owing to the gale coming from rather an unusual point of the compass, such a surf was running as was rarely seen. The men on shore yelled directions, which could not be distinguished in the boat. Old Stevan turned and for an instant surveyed the wild, tumbling mass before him; then he spoke to Everitt, who nodded, and the next moment the two men bent once more to their work, and it seemed to Mrs Lascelles that they were in such a whirl of tossing, raging waters that the boat must be swamped or stove in beyond hope of help. She clutched Kitty's hand, and even cried out, though she could not hear her own voice. The flying foam was over her head, beating at her face; she was stunned, bewildered, almost senseless, when the boat was caught by strong hands and drawn up into safety. "Mother!" cried Kitty, looking at her with, for the first time, terror in her eyes.