“In the cabin, sir?” “No: you know I never take my meals in the cabin when there are passengers on board. In this room.” This was hopeful, at least, for Wade; for he thought there would be a chance for him to get a piece of bread, if nothing more. It was clear now that Capt. Bendig had not dined, or even lunched, unless the food had been carried to him on deck. He placed himself so that he could look out into the room, for he felt obliged to watch his opportunity. He saw the steward set the table; and in less than half an hour Pollish placed a beefsteak on the table, and then passed into the cabin to call the captain, who was on deck. As quick as lightning, Wade sprang out of his den; and, seeing two slices of sirloin on the table, he took one of them, with a couple of cuts of bread, and returned to his abode beneath the berth. Burying himself beneath the old garments, or rather piling them up like a breastwork in front of him, he proceeded to devour the beef and bread before the captain came down, or to do as much as possible towards it. “I think the ship is in sight, Mr. Wallgood,” said the captain, as he paused at the door on his way to his room. “There is a large ship ahead, which is not doing all she can with this lively breeze; and I think she is the ‘Housatonic.’” “Is that the name of the ship we are to cross the ocean in?” asked Mrs. Wallgood, who spoke as though she was better reconciled to the voyage than when Wade had heard from her last. “That is Capt. Crogick’s ship. I thought we should overhaul her before night with this breeze,” replied Capt. Bendig. He entered his room, and seated himself at the table. Wade promptly suspended the movements of his jaws. He did not stir; he did not breathe aloud. For some time Capt. Bendig plied his knife and fork with vigor, and the waif under his berth could hear the crisp fried potatoes snap in his teeth. “Pollish!” called he at last. “Here, sir,” replied the steward, who waited in the passage for further orders. “Where is the cook?” “At the galley, sir.” “Send him to me.” In a moment Beafbon appeared at the door of the state-room; and he looked so humble that he evidently expected a blowing-up for something. It was more likely that he supposed it related to his spree the night before, than to the real cause. “Beafbon, how often must I tell you the same thing before you can understand me?” said the captain, introducing his subject in a proper manner. “I don’t want to be told any thing more than once, captain,” replied the cook, relieved when he found that he was not sent for on account of the spree. “Good! but how many times have I told you that I wanted more than one slice of these small sirloins? I don’t eat but two meals a day, and I want enough.” Wade felt that his time had come.