ed at the
edge. Now there was a gleam of white on the lower deck--the cook's apron
or the stewardess perhaps. Now a tiny black spider raced up the ladder
on to the bridge.

In the front of the crowd a strong-looking, middle-aged man, dressed
very well, very snugly in a grey overcoat, grey silk scarf, thick gloves
and dark felt hat, marched up and down, twirling his folded umbrella. He
seemed to be the leader of the little crowd on the wharf and at the same
time to keep them together. He was something between the sheep-dog and
the shepherd.

But what a fool--what a fool he had been not to bring any glasses! There
wasn't a pair of glasses between the whole lot of them.

"Curious thing, Mr. Scott, that none of us thought of glasses. We might
have been able to stir 'em up a bit. We might have managed a little
signalling. 'Don't hesitate to land. Natives harmless.' Or: 'A welcome
awaits you. All is forgiven.' What? Eh?"

Mr. Hammond's quick, eager glance, so nervous and yet so friendly and
confiding, took in everybody on the wharf, roped in even those old chaps
lounging against the gangways. They knew, every man-jack of them, that
Mrs. Hammond was on that boat, and that he was so tremendously excited
it never entered his head not to believe that this marvellous fact meant
something to them too. It warmed his heart towards them. They were,
he decided, as decent a crowd of people--Those old chaps over by the
gangways, too--fine, solid old chaps. What chests--by Jove! And he
squared his own, plunged his thick-gloved hands into his pockets, rocked
from heel to toe.

"Yes, my wife's been in Europe for the last ten months. On a visit to
our eldest girl, who was married last year. I brought her up here, as
far as Salisbury, myself. So I thought I'd better come and fetch her
back. Yes, yes, yes." The shrewd grey eyes narrowed again and searched
anxiously, quickly, the motionless liner. Again his overcoat was
unbuttoned. Out came the thin, butter-yellow watch again, and for the
twentieth--fiftieth--hundredth time he made the calculation.

"Let me see now. It was two fifteen when the doctor's launch went off.
Two fifteen. It is now exactly twenty-eight minutes past four. That is
to say, the doctor's been gone two hours and thirteen minutes. Two hours
and thirteen minutes! Whee-ooh!" He gave a queer little half-whistle
and snapped his watch to again. "But I think we should have been told if
there was anything up--don't you, Mr.