Outside the little alehouse in Yarmouth, the thunder of the sea grew louder. The narrow Row funnelled the sound from the beach, so that it seemed as if the waves were breaking against the little house itself. The wind dashed sand and stone against its wooden walls, shaking the shutters like a child in a tantrum demanding to be allowed in. Still hunched in the corner of the bench, Martin didn't stir. Raffe, pulling his cloak more tightly around himself, finally drifted into a restless sleep.
He wasn't sure how long he'd slept, but he was jerked awake by something crashing against the wooden wall of the house. The roar of the wind and waves seemed even louder than before, but Raffe could have sworn he heard something else outside, a high-pitched cry, like the shrieking of gulls. But gulls didn't fly at night.
The room was in complete darkness. Even the glow of the fire had vanished. Raffe reached out his hand to adjust the cloak that covered him, and stifled a cry as he felt an icy wetness beneath his fingers. He tried to struggle up from the pallet and promptly slipped sideways with a splash. The floor was awash with water. It wasn't deep, just two or three inches at the most, but it had trickled into the fire pit, extinguishing the embers. He could smell the wet, acrid smoke.
Raffe splashed through the freezing water, cursing vehemently as he blundered into the table and scraped his shins against a bench. He groped along the wall until he felt the edge of the casement and unfastened the shutter of the tiny square window. The wind almost tore the thick wood from his hand. At first he couldn't make sense of what he saw. The ground outside was writhing as if the earth itself was unravelling. Then something black reared up, crashing into white foam inches from his face. The Row was deep in water, waves were being driven up the street, between the houses. The sea was surging in.
Almost blinded by the stinging spray, Raffe struggled to close the shutter, but as he fought with the wind, he became aware of something else. There were figures moving along the Row in the black water. It was so dark that it was hard to make out what they were, but he saw a hand pale against the oily water, a face half turned towards him made blurry by his watering eyes. Fishermen trying to reach their homes? Men trying to rescue the stranded? Raffe didn't know, but it was madness to be out there in this storm. How any man could stand against that surge was beyond his understanding.
He finally managed to slam the shutter against the wind. He groped for one of the benches and swung himself on to it, pulling up his legs as the Frenchman had done. His soaking feet were numb with cold. The water didn't seem to be rising too quickly. The heavy tarred door was doing its job well, but water was seeping in from somewhere, probably up through the floor itself, or else oozing through cracks between the tarred planks of the walls.
The timbers of the house creaked and groaned as the waves surged past it. Raffe found himself wondering how much it could withstand. If it started to collapse, it would go very quickly. They'd be crushed by the timbers. Would it be safer to be outside with those men? Were they fleeing collapsed homes? The walls trembled as the wind beat itself against them, shrieking with frustration and fury, as if the demons in hell were hurling themselves at the house.
Then he heard it, a fist beating on the thick wooden door. The sound was muffled, but there was no mistaking someone was knocking.
'Let me in. For pity's sake, let me in!'
The anguish in the voice was so terrible that Raffe found himself swinging his legs down before he remembered the alewife's instruction not to open the door to anyone. He pulled his legs up again.
The hammering came again. 'Let me in! Merciful heaven, I'm drowning. I'm drowning!'
Raffe tried to ignore it. There were other voices out there, raised above the wind, all begging and whimpering. He knew they were struggling in that freezing water, clinging on to anything they could grasp, desperate not to be dragged back into the raging sea.
'Let me in. I've been betrayed. You must let me in. They tried to kill me.'