So he at once took measures to provide himself with a passage, and going on shore, he purchased a few necessaries which he had not time to get from his lodgings, and he wrote a letter to his landlord, informing him of his unexpected departure, together with instructions regarding his personal effects.
Only a few moments after his return to the steamer's deck, the cry "All ashore!" was heard, and young Barnwell came on deck with his companions to take a final leave of them, as dozens of others were doing with the groups of friends surrounding them.
It is at such a time as this that the feelings of friendship come out the strongest.
Those who have taken passage, even on ever so large and staunch a ship, seem like ants on a piece of driftwood, especially when the number of shipwrecks is considered, and that among the first-class steamships; and when friend parts with friend each understands the danger and uncertainty of ever meeting again, and consequently the partings are more pathetic, the handshakes more intense, embraces more fervent and sensational than they would be under other circumstances.
But those embraces were exchanged, those earnest handshakes indulged in, and everybody not going to Europe was ordered ashore. What partings, what expectations!
The gang-plank is finally drawn ashore, the last lines loosened from cleats and spiles, the engineer's bell rings, and the black hull of the Baltic moves slowly from her pier.
Friends on the dock give cheers to those on board, and they, in return, wave their handkerchiefs, kiss their hands–aye, from the cabin to the steerage-passengers, and the forecastle (those not employed), all waft their good-by greetings to those who are left behind, not knowing whether they may be the more fortunate or not.
William Barnwell stood on the after-deck waving his hat to the friends he had just parted with, and in spite of the dangers of the deep, of which he never thought, wondering how long it would be before they would meet again.
The secret police agent stood near the main-hatch, and watched him narrowly.
Darkness was just closing in when the gallant steamer, with her nose pointed to the southeast, passed the Sandy Hook light, and began to lay her course towards England.