noon
And yet , when the sun , swollen to the great dimensions of the rising moon , dipped blood-red through the haze ; the first premonitory tingle of cold warned one that the grateful warmth of the day had been but an illusion of a season that had gone . This was not summer , but , in the quaint old phrase , Indian summer , and its end would be as though the necromancer had waved his wand . To Newmark , sitting at his desk , reported Captain Floyd of the steam barge NORTH STAR . `` All loaded by noon , sir , '' he said . Newmark looked up in surprise . `` Well , why do you tell me ? '' he inquired .