eleven o'clock
Mr. Stuart 's fishing party had made an early start . They were to land some miles up the coast , where those who were not of a mind to fish could make themselves comfortable on shore . The journey was not a short one . It was well past eleven o'clock when they landed on a hard shell beach , broken here and there by patches of marsh grass . `` You are especially privileged to be allowed to set foot on these shores , '' Mr. Stuart assured his guests , as he handed them out of the launch . `` The location of this place has been kept a secret ; otherwise it would be overrun with tourists and excursionists . '' `` Is it so beautiful ? ''