noon
The old Doctor had sat through six distressful hours like the stoic he was ; but his face showed like that of a corpse , and the usually plump and florid cheeks of Mr. Pope hung flaccid , blue with the pinch of the cold and yellow for lack of sleep . The Commandant spoke to the coxswain , and , running up the gig alongside the jolly-boat , suggested to the indomitable Mr. Rogers that the men were almost dead-beat , to which , indeed , the faces of all bore witness in the broadening daylight . `` We must not exhaust ourselves utterly , '' suggested Mr. Pope . `` It is already day , and the Council of Twelve ought to meet before noon . '' `` Indeed ? Why ? '' asked the Commandant , absently .