They were riding in past the Spear Point in majestic and unending procession, and the rocks that surrounded the pool were already deeply covered.

The surf of one great wave was rushing over the beach to the Caves, and the spray of it blew over Knight, drenching him from head to foot.

Desperately, by that passing gleam of moonlight, he searched for the opening of the path, the foam of the oncoming procession already swirling about his feet.

He spied it suddenly at length, and in the same instant something within him--could it have been his heart ?--dropped abruptly like a loosened weight to the very depths of his being.

The way of escape in that direction was already cut off.