midday
`` We 're a enterin o ' the harbure , '' said Captain Corbet . Hours passed away from the time the Antelope raised anchor until she reached the wharf . In passing up the harbor , the shadowy forms of vessels at anchor became distinguishable amid the gloom , and in front of them , as they neared the wharf , there arose a forest of masts belonging to schooners . It was now midday . Suddenly there arose a fearful din all around . It was the shriek of a large number of steam whistles , and seemed to come up from every side . `` Is that for the fog ? ''