nearly seven o'clock
As he had said , the convict deserved a pardon . The mean , bad man , burning with wounded vanity and undefined jealousy , waited for some method to suggest itself , by which he might claim the credit of the escape , and snatch from the prisoner , who had dared to rival him , the last hope of freedom . Rufus Dawes , drifting with the current , had allowed himself to coast along the eastern side of the harbour until the Pilot Station appeared in view on the opposite shore . By this time it was nearly seven o'clock . He landed at a sandy cove , and drawing up his raft , proceeded to unpack from among his garments a piece of damper . Having eaten sparingly , and dried himself in the sun , he replaced the remains of his breakfast , and pushed his floats again into the water . The Pilot Station lay some distance below him , on the opposite shore .