or two o'clock in the morning. We can't tell. I should think the best thing for you would be to take a rest until the time comes. I think, Miss Earle, you need it."
It was a little after twelve o'clock when the engine stopped. The saloon was dimly lighted, and porters were hurrying to and fro, getting up the baggage which belonged to those who were going to get off at Queenstown. The night was very still, and rather cold. The lights of Queenstown could be seen here and there along the semi-circular range of hills on which the town stood. Passengers who were to land stood around the deck well muffled up, and others who had come to bid them good-by were talking sleepily with them. Morris was about to send the steward to Miss Earle's room, when that young lady herself appeared. There was something spiritlike about her, wrapped in her long cloak, as she walked through the half-darkness to meet George Morris.
"I was just going to send for you," he said.
"I did not sleep any," was the answer, "and the moment the engine stopped I knew we were there. Shall we go on deck?"
"Yes," he said, "but come away from the crowd," and with that he led her toward the stern of the boat. For a moment Miss Earle seemed to hold
