12 o'clock
He enjoyed reflecting upon them , picturing them with their contrasted attributes , following them into the future as they developed blindly under the unperceived sway of the paramount instincts which had impelled and would always impel them towards their ultimate destiny . He thought upon himself , and about himself he was very sturdily cheerful , because he had had a most satisfactory interview with Sir Isaac on the previous afternoon . A few minutes later he walked behind a portmanteau-bearing night-porter into the wide-corridored , sleeping hotel , whose dust glittered in the straight shafts of early sunlight . He stopped at the big slate under the staircase and wrote in chalk opposite the number 187 : `` Not to be called till 12 o'clock , under pain of death . '' And the porter , a friend of some years ' standing , laughed . On the second floor that same porter dropped the baggage on the linoleum and rattled the key in the lock with a high disregard of sleepers . In the bedroom the porter undid the straps of the portmanteau , and then : `` Anything else , sir ? ''