eleven o’clock
She was puzzling about the young man who had left her , endeavoring to arrive at some theory of who he was and what he could be doing in Rosnacree . After awhile she turned over on her side , fumbled in her pocket and drew out two more biscuits in crumbly fragments . She munched them contentedly . At eleven o'clock she raised herself slowly on one elbow and looked round . The tide had nearly reached its lowest , and the Blue Wanderer lay half in , half out of the water ; her stern perched high , her bow with the useless anchor rope depending from it , dipped deep . Priscilla realised that she had no time to lose . She put her shoulder to the stern of the boat and pushed , springing on board as the boat floated .