There was no promise in such a daybreak; it was only light, and nothing more.
Mr.Saltram, having duly deliberated the matter during the long hours of that weary night, had decided that his wisest course was to lie _perdu_ until the last moment, the very moment of landing, and then to come boldly forward and make his claim.

It was useless to waste his strength in any futile endeavour to baffle so hardy a scoundrel as Percival Nowell.

At the last, when Marian was leaving the ship, it would be time for him to assert his right as her husband, and to defy the wretch who had beguiled her away from him.
Having once arrived at this decision, he was able to await the issue of events with some degree of tranquility.

He had no doubt, even now, of his wife's affection for him, no fear as to the ultimate triumph of her love over all the lies and artifices of that scheming scoundrel, her father.
It was nearly three o'clock in the afternoon when the steward came to tell him that they were on the point of arriving at their destination.
The wharf where they were to land was within sight.

The man had promised to give him due warning of this event, and John Saltram had therefore contrived to keep himself quiet amidst all the feverish impatience and confusion of mind prevailing, amongst the other passengers.