As to their language, it is quite incomprehensible." "There is the disadvantage of not knowing all languages," said Conseil, "or the disadvantage of not having one universal language." As he said these words, the door opened.

A steward entered.

He brought us clothes, coats and trousers, made of a stuff I did not know.
I hastened to dress myself, and my companions followed my example.
During that time, the steward--dumb, perhaps deaf--had arranged the table, and laid three plates.
"This is something like!" said Conseil.
"Bah!" said the angry harpooner, "what do you suppose they eat here?
Tortoise liver, filleted shark, and beef steaks from seadogs." "We shall see," said Conseil.
The dishes, of bell metal, were placed on the table, and we took our places.

Undoubtedly we had to do with civilised people, and, had it not been for the electric light which flooded us, I could have fancied I was in the dining-room of the Adelphi Hotel at Liverpool, or at the Grand Hotel in Paris.

I must say, however, that there was neither bread nor wine.