Christy still slept, and the skipper did not wake him. It was
daylight when he was abreast of Wreck Hill, and there was no further
difficulty in the navigation. It was half-past eight when he ran up to
a pier where he had kept his boat in former days. There were plenty of
just such crafts as the Eleuthera, and no attention was paid to her as
she passed along the Front-street docks. The pier at which he made his
landing was in a retired locality. He lowered the sails, and had made
everything snug on board before he called his companion.
"Half-past eight, Christophe," said he at the door of the cuddy.
"Half-past eight!" exclaimed Christy, springing out of his berth on the
floor. "Where are we now, M. Rubempre?"
"We are in Hamilton harbor; and if you will come out of the cuddy, you
will find yourself in the midst of flowers and green trees," replied the
skipper with a smile.
"I must have slept six hours," said Christy, rubbing his eyes as he
crawled out of the cuddy.
The scenery around him was certainly very beautiful, and he gazed upon
it in silence for a few minutes. It seemed to him just as though he had
waked in fairyland.
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