The evening was gliding away.
It passed with leaden wings to Roderic, whose ardent spirit longed for the first streak of dawn, in the anticipation of being able to discover whether or not the vessel that bore Georgia was in the harbor.
There was something almost unendurable in the suspense, and it required considerable determination to crush down the spirit that demanded some immediate action on his part.
He had been compelled to go back to the comforts of his more plebeian pipe, nor did its solace fail to soothe his troubled spirit.
Thus time slipped away.
Four bells had struck.
Ere long they would be thinking of seeking their berths, and for one Roderic confessed that the summons would not come amiss.
He yawned several times as though he had not yet been able to make up the sleep lost while they were in the grasp of the storm, when all hands found it impossible to remain in their bunks.
Truth to tell he was thinking that sleep would bridge over the time until dawn, and cause him to forget his anxieties.
The lights still glimmered, nor had the sounds of music and revelry abated one particle.