11 o'clock
There was a long , whispered conversation after this , and I could not distinguish the words which were spoken . But presently a small piece of pink paper was thrown over the wall , and fluttered down upon my palette . I caught it up quickly , to prevent it from sticking to the paints , and I saw there was something printed on it . It ran thus : -- _ There will be a short service on the shore on Sunday Morning at 11 o'clock , when you are earnestly requested to be present _ . _ Subject _ : WHAT ARE YOU ? ` Thank you , ' I said aloud . ` Who sent me this ? '