And she was left with the dog for company once more. A chronometer showed that the hour was past midnight. She knew sufficient of the sea to understand that the clock was probably accurate, as the course had practically followed the same meridian since the _Kansas_ quitted Valparaiso. So the ship and those left on board had entered on another day! How little she had thought that to be possible when the awful knowledge first came to her that the _Kansas_ was ashore! How long ago was that? Then she remembered that when Courtenay placed her in his cabin with the promise to bring Isobel to her, she had noticed the time—eleven o’clock. Was it conceivable that only one hour had elapsed since she and her four-footed friend were flung all of a heap into a corner by the impact of the vessel against the sand-bank? One hour! Surely there was some mistake; she puzzled over the problem, recounting each event since the conclusion of dinner, and finally convinced herself that her recollection was not at fault. An hour—one of eternity’s hours! A verse of the 90th Psalm came to her mind: “For a thousand years in Thy sight are but as yesterday when it is past, and as a watch in the night.” The words had a new and solemn meaning to her. Yesterday was her thousand years—this was her watch in the night—and it would pass as a tale that is told. Involuntarily she turned to the bookcase behind her, and took the Bible from the little library of books which she had laughingly described as “a curious assortment.” It was her intent to find the psalm containing that awe-inspiring verse, and read the whole of it, but, in turning over the leaves, she came upon a scrap of paper with notes on it. The handwriting was scholarly and legible. She thought that Captain Courtenay would probably write just such a hand. Though her cheeks tingled a little at the memory of the words in his sister’s letter, there was no harm in reading a memorandum evidently intended to mark a passage in the book. The items were sufficiently striking:—“Meribah—a place of strife; Selah—a repetition, or sort of musical _da capo_.” This stirred her to seek an explanation. She searched the two pages which opened at the marker, and, in the seventh verse of the 81st Psalm, she found the key: “Thou calledst in trouble, and I delivered thee; I answered thee in the secret place of thunder; I proved thee at the waters of Meribah. Selah.”