eight o'clock
And then with dissolution would come anarchy . The thrones of the world would be overthrown , the fabric of Society would be dissolved , commerce would come to an end , the structure that it had taken twenty centuries of the discipline of war and the patient toil of peace to build up , would crumble into ruins in a few short months , and then -- well , after that no man could tell what would befall the remains of the human race that had survived the deluge . The means of destruction were at hand , and they would be used without mercy , but for the rest no man could speak . When Nicholas Roburoff , the President of the Executive , rose in his place at eight o'clock to explain the business in hand , every member present saw at a glance , by the gravity of his demeanour , that the communication that he had to make was of no ordinary nature , but even they were not prepared for the catastrophe that he announced in the first sentence that he uttered . `` Friends , '' he said , in a voice that was rendered deeply impressive by the emotion that he vainly tried to conceal , `` it is my mournful duty to tell you that she whom any one of us would willingly shed our blood to serve or save from the slightest evil , our beautiful and beloved Angel of the Revolution , as we so fondly call her , Natasha , the daughter of the Master , has , in the performance of her duty to the Cause , fallen into the hands of Russia . '' Save for a low , murmuring groan that ran round the table , the news was received in silence . It was too terrible , too hideous in the awful meaning that its few words conveyed , for any exclamations of grief , or any outburst of anger , to express the emotions that it raised .