CHAPTER VI.
THE PROMISED LAND AT LAST.
'There is nothing more annoyin' than a hitch at the hin'eren'. What think you, young sir?'
'I beg pardon,' I replied, 'but I'm afraid I did not quite understand you.'
I had been standing all alone watching our preparations for dropping down stream with the tide. What a wearisome time it had been, too!
The Canton was advertised to sail the day before, but did not. We were assured, however, she would positively start at midnight, and we had gone to bed expecting to awake at sea. I had fallen asleep brimful of all kinds of romantic thoughts. But lo! I had been awakened early on the dark morning of this almost wintry day with the shouting of men, the rattling of chains, and puff-puff-puffing of that dreadful donkey-engine.
'Oh yes, we'll be off, sure enough, about eight bells.'
This is what the steward told us after breakfast, but all the forenoon had slipped away, and here we still were. The few people on shore who had stayed on, maugre wind and sleet, to see the very, very last of friends on board, looked very worn and miserable.