Eve, standing behind her, also watched the home-island. "If I could only see him!" was her constant prayer. She was even ready to accept the sight of a boat shooting from the shadows which lay dark on the western side, a boat coming in pursuit; he would have had time, perhaps, to get to the skiff which was kept on that side, not far from the point; he knew where all the boats were. Five minutes--six--had elapsed since they landed; yes, he would have had time. She looked and looked; she was almost sure that she saw a boat advancing, and clasped her hands in joy. But where could they go, in case he should really come? To Singleton House, where there was only a lame old man, and women? There was no door there which he could not batter down, no lock which could keep him out--the terrible, beautiful madman. No; it was better to think, to believe, that he _could_ not come. She walked back to the trees that skirted the beach, leaned her clasped arms against the trunk of one of them, and, laying her head upon the arm that was uppermost, stood motionless. XI. The dawn was still very faint when the steamer stopped at Singleton Landing. There was no one waiting save an old negro, who caught the shore rope, and there was no one stirring on the boat save the gruff captain, muffled in an overcoat though the night was warm, and two deck-hands, who put ashore a barrel and a sack. Lights were burning dimly on board; the negro on the dock carried a lantern. Two women came from the shadows, and crossed the plank to the lower deck, entering the dark space within, which was encumbered with loose freight--crates of fowls, boxes, barrels, coils of rope. The taller of the two women carried a sleeping child. For Cicely had come to the end of her strength; she could hardly walk. Eve found the sleepy mulatto woman who answered to the name of stewardess, and told her to give them a cabin immediately. "Cabin? Why, de cabin's dish-yere," answered the woman, making a motion with her hand to indicate the gaudy little saloon in which they stood. She surveyed them with wonder. "State-room," murmured Cicely.