about eleven o'clock
I mean now . '' `` Home . '' `` No , you ai n't , '' said the Doctor ; `` you are going to walk up to Hamlyn 's with me , and hear me discourse . '' Accordingly , about eleven o'clock , these two arrived at my house , and sat before the fire till half-past three in the morning ; and in that time the Doctor had given us more information about New South Wales than we had been able to gather from ordinary sources in a month . Those who only know the river Taw as he goes sweeping , clear and full , past orchards and farmhouses , by woods and parks , and through long green meadows , after he has left Dartmoor , have little idea of the magnificent scene which rewards the perseverance of anyone who has the curiosity to follow him up to his granite cradle between the two loftiest eminences in the West of England . On the left , Great Cawsand heaves up , down beyond down , a vast sheet of purple heath and golden whin , while on the right the lofty serrated ridge of Yestor starts boldly up , black against the western sky , throwing a long shadow over the wild waste of barren stone at his feet . Some Scotchmen , perhaps , may smile at my applying the word `` magnificent '' to heights of only 2,100 feet .