The
rain drizzled down, warm rain that covered the walls of the cabins in
streams of moisture; the sailors loading and unloading cargoes with loud
creakings of donkey engines swore in sheer irritation; somewhere on the
wharf sheep kept up an incessant and pitiful bleating all the day while
sirens shrieked out in the stream. Jimmy was the only happy person on
board, loading his train with chocolates and unloading them into his
mouth after a tortuous trip along the dining table amongst glasses,
knives and forks. It was the longest day Marcella had ever known; as the
swift twilight passed, the passengers came aboard damp and damped; most
of them were grumbling; all looked thoroughly pessimistic about
Australia. The schoolmaster was one of the first to come solemnly along
the deck under an umbrella. He had avoided Marcella rather pointedly
lately, but he came and talked quite affably for a while, didactically
contrasting Melbourne with Naples and Colombo.

The _Oriana_ was to sail at eight o'clock; Marcella would not let
herself be anxious; she had resolved that she must trust Louis now, and,
knowing that he had scarcely any money and no friends, she could not
imagine he would get into mischief. But as the last passengers came
aboard and the first warning bell rang out, she began to grow cold with
fear. The rain was pouring now in a sheet of water; she stood on deck in
the green white glare of the arc lamps, which only lighted a
circumscribed pool of radiance, and made the surrounding darkness
blacker.

The second bell went; she heard the engine-room telegraph ring and the
ship began to vibrate to the throb of the engines. She was feeling
choked with fear: a thousand apprehensions went through her mind: he had
been run over and was dead: he had lost his way: he was ill in hospital,
crying out for her.

"Has your friend not come aboard?" asked the schoolmaster at her elbow.

She shook her head. It was impossible to speak.

"I suppose he has mistaken the time of sailing," said the schoolmaster
soothingly.

"Do you think I ought to go ashore to look for him?" she cried,
articulate at last in her misery, and ready to take advice.

"I think he should be able to take care of himself," he said carefully.

"Ah, but he isn't. I must go and find him," she cried wildly. "What sort
of hands will he get into if he's left to himself?"

At that moment the last bell rang, and the boat began to move very
slowly away from the whar