midnight
He had just returned from a fortnight 's cruise , and was wondering what he would do with the weeks that remained to him -- whether he would explore the west coast of England or set sail for the Channel Islands -- when he found himself , very lazy and very happy , lying at anchor in a certain white-walled harbor in the south of Cornwall . A neighboring regatta had carried off , the fleet of yachts that had their moorings there , and the harbor was dotted with fishing-boats , pilot-boats , ocean steamers , steam tugs , wherries , and such craft . The little _ Torch _ , rocking madly on miniature waves as she played with her chain , was almost alone in her lightness and frivolity . About an hour before midnight Durant woke in his berth , and felt this vivacity of hers increasing ; larger waves lapped her and broke against her sides , but overhead , on deck , there was no sign of a wind . He got up , climbed the companion ladder , and put his head out over the hatch . A schooner yacht had come in , and lay straining at her cable in the narrow channel between the _ Torch _ and a Portsmouth pilot . She had only just put into harbor , for her crew were still busy taking down her sails .