Eight o'clock
The darkness was profound ; the wind had fallen , and in the perfect silence the waters seemed to slumber in the immense harbour , whilst a few uncertain lights glimmered through the mist . James Playfair had taken his place at the rudder , and with a steady hand he guided his boat towards White Point . It was a distance of about two miles ; during the day James had taken his bearings perfectly , so that he was able to make direct for Charleston Point . Eight o'clock struck from the church of St. Philip when the shore-boat ran aground at White Point . There was an hour to wait before the exact time fixed by Crockston ; the quay was deserted , with the exception of the sentinel pacing to and fro on the south and east batteries . James Playfair grew impatient , and the minutes seemed hours to him . At half-past eight he heard the sound of approaching steps ; he left his men with their oars clear and ready to start , and went himself to see who it was ; but he had not gone ten feet when he met a band of coastguards , in all about twenty men .