eleven o'clock
It was into this that Private Jones had been hurled on a certain memorable occasion . Such a thing was not likely to happen again in the same week , and , even if it did , Kennedy flattered himself that he would have more to say in the matter than Private Jones had had ; but nevertheless he kept a careful eye in that direction whenever his beat took him along the ditch . It was about half-past twelve , and he had entered upon the last section of his two hours , when Kennedy distinctly heard footsteps in the wood . He had heard so many mysterious sounds since his patrol began at eleven o'clock that at first he was inclined to attribute this to imagination . But a crackle of dead branches and the sound of soft breathing convinced him that this was the real thing for once , and that , as a sentry of the Public Schools ' Camp on duty , it behoved him to challenge the unknown . He stopped and waited , peering into the darkness in a futile endeavour to catch a glimpse of his man . But the night was too black for the keenest eye to penetrate it .