eight o’clock
The outcome : disappointment and anger . I hoisted myself up to the crosstrees of the mizzen sail . Some officers were already perched on the mastheads . At eight o'clock the mist rolled ponderously over the waves , and its huge curls were lifting little by little . The horizon grew wider and clearer all at once . Suddenly , just as on the previous evening , Ned Land 's voice was audible . `` There 's the thing in question , astern to port ! ''