four
o’clock
... '' `` Good-bye , '' cried the aide-de-camp ; `` I have only just time to get across that unlucky river , and go I must , there is my mother in France ! ... What a night ! This herd of wretches would rather lie here in the snow , and most of them would sooner be burned alive than get up ... . It is four o'clock , Philip ! In two hours the Russians will begin to move , and you will see the Beresina covered with corpses a second time , I can tell you . You have n't a horse , and you can not carry the Countess , so come along with me , '' he went on , taking his friend by the arm . `` My dear fellow , how am I to leave Stephanie ? ''