On the pier was a solitary man, and he
was the only living being in sight. It was that dreary time before
breakfast, when everything that seems cheerless is more cheerless,
everything that is sad more sad, everything that is discouraging more
discouraging, and which right-minded persons who are able to do so spend
in bed.
Gradually the vessel approached the pier, and Abner, to whom I had not
yet spoken, for I did not feel in the least like talking, left the
wheel, and, as soon as he was near enough, threw a small line to the man
on the pier, who caught it, pulling ashore a cable with a loop in the
end, threw the latter over a post, and in a few minutes the grocery boat
was moored. The man came on board, and he and Abner went below.
It was too early to go on shore, for nothing could be done at that
bleak, unearthly hour; but I was in that state of nervous disquietude
when any change is a relief, and I stepped ashore. I was glad to put my
feet upon the pier. Now I felt that I was my own master. It was too soon
to go on board the yacht, but I could regulate my movements as I
pleased, and was very willing to be alone during the hour or two in
which I must remain inactive.
I walked over the loose and warped planks of the pier, the dull water
rippling and flopping about the timbers beneath me, inhaling that faint
smell of the quiet water and soaked logs, which is always a little
dispiriting to me even at less dispiriting hours.
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