Ten o'clock
Had the season been summer they might have slept in the fields , made themselves temporary sheds , or carried their sick , and aged , and helpless , to distant places where humanity might aid and relieve them . But no -- here were the elements of God , as it were , called in by the malignity and wickedness of man to war against old age , infancy , and disease . For a day or two proceeding this , poor Torley thought he felt a little better , that is to say , his usual symptoms of suffering were litigated , as is sometimes the case when human weakness literally sinks below the reach of pain itself . Ten o'clock had arrived and he had not yet awoke , having only fallen asleep a little before daybreak . His father went to his bed-side , and looking down saw that he was still asleep , with a peaceful smile irradiating his features , as it were with a sense of inward happiness and tranquility . He beckoned to his mother who approached the bed , and contemplated him with that tearless agony which sears the heart and brain , until the feeling would be gladly exchanged for madness . The conversation which followed was in Irish , a circumstance that accounts for its figurative style and tenderness of expression .