eleven o'clock
At times it seemed to him that it was the end of the world and that he was the last one left alive . Still the wind increased . Hour after hour it increased . By what he calculated was eleven o'clock , the wind had become unbelievable . It was a horrible , monstrous thing , a screaming fury , a wall that smote and passed on but that continued to smite and pass on -- a wall without end . It seemed to him that he had become light and ethereal ; that it was he that was in motion ; that he was being driven with inconceivable velocity through unending solidness . The wind was no longer air in motion .