r
the coat and hat he had left there, and went shivering out into the
main street, from which he turned up the hill towards the Hoe. The day
had dawned by that time, and the sky was a gloomy grey, varied towards
the horizon by stormy gleams of yellow; the prim clean streets were
deserted, save by an occasional workman going to his labours with a
heavy tramp echoing on the wet flags. Mark went along by terraces of
lodging-houses, where the placards of 'apartments' had an especially
forlorn and futile look against the drawn blinds, and from the areas
of which the exhalations, confined during the night, rose in
perceptible contrast with the fresh morning air. Then he found
himself upon the Hoe, with its broad asphalt promenades and rows of
hotels and terraces, rain-washed, silent, and cold, and descending the
winding series of steps, he made his way to the Millbay Pier, and
entered the Custom House gates. Waiting about the wharf was a little
knot of people, apparently bound on much the same errand as
himself--although in far higher spirits. Their cheerfulness (probably
a trifle aggravated by the consciousness of being up so early) jarred
upon him, and he went on past them to the place where two small
steamers were lying.

'One of 'em's a-goin' out to the "Coromandel" presently,' said a
sailor in answer to his question; 'you'd better wait till the agent's
down, or you may be took out to the wrong ship--for there's two
expected, but they ain't neither of 'em in yet. Ah!' as a gun was
heard outside, 'that'll be the "Coromandel" signallin' now.'

'That ain't her,' said another man, who was leaning over the side of
one of the tenders, 'that's the t'other one--the "Emu;" the
"Coromandel's" a three-master, _she_ is.'

'Tom knows the "Coromandel,"--don't ye, Tom? Let Tom alone for knowing
the "Coromandel!"' said the first sailor--a remark which apparently
was rich in hidden suggestion, for they both laughed very heartily.

Presently the agent appeared, and Mark, having satisfied himself that
there was no danger of being taken out to the wrong vessel (for, much
as he dreaded meeting Holroyd, he dreaded missing him even more), went
on board one of the tenders, which soon after began to move out into
the dull green water. Now that he was committed to the ordeal his
terrors rose again; he almost wished that he had made a mistake after
all, and was being taken out to meet the wrong P. and O. The horrible
fear possessed him that Ho