about noon
I remember thinking the night oppressively hot , and was thankful that Mr Ringer was good enough to drive me from the barracks into the town . `` I do n't know what to make of the weather , '' said my host the next morning , when we met at breakfast . Not a breath of wind stirred the atmosphere , and it seemed as if all nature was asleep ; while the sky , instead of being of a cerulean blue , was suffused , as the sun rose , with a fiery red tinge . The hour -- about noon -- at which it was arranged that I should go on board was approaching . My host offered to accompany me down to the harbour , but before we reached it we encountered a violent squall , which almost took us off our legs , and sent Larry 's hat flying up the street . He made chase after it , and we stopped to let him overtake us , while a number of other people , caught by the wind , passed us running off in the same direction . At length his hat , driven into a doorway , was recovered , and Larry came battling against the wind to rejoin us .