This was said in the haughtiest and coolest tone imaginable, looking at
the place where Burr stood, as if there were nothing there but empty
air. Mary rose to go; Madame de Frontignac offered her arm.

"Permit me to remark, ladies," said Burr, with the quiet suavity which
never forsook him, "that your very agreeable occupations have caused
time to pass more rapidly than you are aware. I think you will find
that the tide has risen so as to intercept the path by which you came
here. You will hardly be able to get around the point of rocks without
some assistance."

Mary looked a few paces ahead, and saw, a little before them, a fresh
afternoon breeze driving the rising tide high on to the side of the
rocks, at whose foot their course had lain. The nook in which they had
been sporting formed part of a shelving ledge which inclined over their
heads, and which it was just barely possible could be climbed by a
strong and agile person, but which would be wholly impracticable to a
frail, unaided woman.

"There is no time to be lost," said Burr, coolly, measuring the
possibilities with that keen eye that was never discomposed by any
exigency. "I am at your service, ladies; I can either carry you in my
arms around this point, or assist you up these rocks."

He paused and waited for their answer.

Madame de Frontignac stood pale, cold, and silent, hearing only the
wild beating of her heart.