Wednesday at two o'clock
Uncle Horace 's eyes twinkled , and a corruscation of laugh-wrinkles shot like sheet-lightning over his face . He disappeared into a neighbouring room , leaving a trail of white smoke in his wake , like a locomotive . Presently he returned with a _ Bullinger Guide _ in his hand . `` You can sail on Wednesday at two o'clock by the Cunarder , '' he said . `` You can go to Newport to-day , and come back by the boat on Tuesday night , and be ready to start in the morning . '' Mr. Bellingham prided himself greatly on his faculty for making combinations of times and places . `` How about those letters , Mr. Bellingham ? ''