"But, dinner or breakfast, the steward will be welcome, whichever he brings." "Master Land, we must conform to the rules on board, and I suppose our appetites are in advance of the dinner hour." "That is just like you, friend Conseil," said Ned, impatiently.

"You are never out of temper, always calm; you would return thanks before grace, and die of hunger rather than complain!" Time was getting on, and we were fearfully hungry; and this time the steward did not appear.

It was rather too long to leave us, if they really had good intentions towards us.

Ned Land, tormented by the cravings of hunger, got still more angry; and, notwithstanding his promise, I dreaded an explosion when he found himself with one of the crew.
For two hours more Ned Land's temper increased; he cried, he shouted, but in vain.

The walls were deaf.