In the darkness he had not taken a straight course, and it was too late.
Wildly he turned--like a hunted animal seeking refuge.

With great leaps and gigantic effort, he made for the open beach.

He reached it, reached the loose dry sand so soon to be covered by the roaring tumult of great waters.

His eyes glared out over the level stretch that intervened between the Spear Point Rock and the harbour quay.

The tide would not be over it yet.
He flung his last defiance to the fate that relentlessly hunted him as he took the only alternative, and set himself to traverse the way of the quicksand--that dragged a man down quicker than hell..