midnight
Seventy-one , one , one ! It was the last he heard , and then he sank forward on his desk in a drunken stupor . At this moment Uncle Terry , with Frye 's letter in his pocket , and righteous wrath in his heart , was speeding toward Boston as fast as steam could carry him . The clear incisive strokes of an adjacent clock proclaiming midnight awoke Frye . He raised his head , and in that almost total darkness for a moment knew not where he was . Then , ere the echoes of those funeral knells died away , he arose , lit the two gas-jets , and sat down . Seventy-one , one , one !!