eleven o'clock
exclaimed the hostess-in-herself , about 10 p.m. , when we were smoking the beatific pipe , `` by the way -- Parker 's dinner ! '' In response to united shouts Parker appeared , and learned with apparent surprise that he had omitted to dine . He looked pale and worn , and told us that he had been blowing out the air-beds . At eleven o'clock we two men left the ladies and went out into the cold moonlight , where our tent looked remarkably picturesque . Of course we fell over a tent-peg each , and the host lost his watchkey . Parker came forward -- dining -- to explain where the ropes were , and fell over one himself , losing a piece of cold boiled beef in the grass . We hunted for it with a lucifer match .