The harbor and the encircling
mountains showed dimly through a curtain of warm, sticky rain. To
something that Langham said of making the best of it, MacWilliams
replied, gloomily, that he would not be at all surprised if the ladies
refused to leave the ship and demanded to be taken home immediately.
"I am sorry," Clay said, simply; "I wanted them to like it."

The men walked back to the office in grim silence, and took turns in
watching with a glass the arms of the semaphore, three miles below, at
the narrow opening of the bay. Clay smiled nervously at himself, with
a sudden sinking at the heart, and with a hot blush of pleasure, as he
thought of how often he had looked at its great arms out lined like a
mast against the sky, and thanked it in advance for telling him that
she was near. In the harbor below, the vessels lay with bare yards and
empty decks, the wharves were deserted, and only an occasional small
boat moved across the beaten surface of the bay.

But at twelve o'clock MacWilliams lowered the glass quickly, with a
little gasp of excitement, rubbed its moist lens on the inside of his
coat and turned it again toward a limp strip of bunting that was
crawling slowly up the halyards of the semaphore. A second dripping
rag answered it from the semaphore in front of the Custom-House, and
MacWilliams laughed nervously and shut the glass.

"It's red," he said; "they've come."

They had planned to wear white duck suits, and go out in a launch with
a flag flying, and they had made MacWilliams purchase a red cummerbund
and a pith helmet; but they tumbled into the launch now, wet and
bedraggled as they were, and raced Weimer in his boat, with the
American flag clinging to the pole, to the side of the big steamer as
she drew slowly into the bay. Other row-boats and launches and
lighters began to push out from the wharves, men appeared under the
sagging awnings of the bare houses along the river-front, and the
custom and health officers in shining oil-skins and puffing damp cigars
clambered over the side.

"I see them," cried Langham, jumping up and rocking the boat in his
excitement. "There they are in the bow. That's Hope waving. Hope!
hullo, Hope!" he shouted, "hullo!" Clay recognized her standing between
the younger sister and her father, with the rain beating on all of
them, and waving her hand to Langham. The men took off their hats, and
as they pulled up alongside she bowed to Clay and nodded brightl