The Fortune-Hunter



  • 18th Century
  • Georgian

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She heard the waves roll in, roll in....

"Jeffrey! Jeffrey!" she sobbed, urging her pony down the steep cliffs to the sea. Gorse caught cruelly at her cloak and skirts, her petticoats flashed white. But Amy thought only of her desperate race against the incoming tide.

Her breath caught in her throat. Was that not the dull blue of his riding coat against the sand? She shouted but no answer came. Only the savage waves mocked her.

Yet somewhere, on this long stretch of shore, the man she loved was staked hand and foot to the beach, waiting for the seas to wash over him forever!
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