nine o'clock
`` An Italian , Monsieur ; a very rough-looking peasant-fellow of middle age , poorly dressed in his working clothes . I have never seen him before . '' I did not like this description , nor the news the concierge had given . It was nine o'clock , and very dark , for it had begun to rain towards evening , and a monotonous drip , drip mingled with the plash of the fountain in the garden . Grim fancies came knocking at the door of my brain . It was a mad thing for a boy , little more than a child , to go out alone in the night with a stranger , a `` rough-looking peasant-fellow , '' who pretended to know something of the vanished bag ; to go out , leaving no word of his intentions , nor the direction he would take . As like as not , the man was a villain who scented rich prey in a tourist offering a reward of five thousand francs for a lost piece of luggage .