midnight
`` Yea , 't is here ! '' I answered , and detached the lower joint of my fishing rod . The Imp rose , and folding his arms , surveyed me as Robin Hood himself might have done -- that is to say , with an ` eye of fire . ' `` So be it , my faithful Little-John , '' quoth he ; `` meet me at the Blasted Oak at midnight . An ' if I shout for help -- I mean blow my bugle -- you 'll come an ' rescue me , wo n't you , Uncle Dick ? '' `` Ay ; trust me for that , '' I answered , all unsuspecting . '' 'T is well ! ''