six
o’clock in the evening
So off we started in groups . -- Fyall , Captain Transom , Whiffle , Aaron Bang , and myself , sallied forth in a bunch , pretty well inclined for a lark , you may guess . There are no lamps in the streets of Kingston , and as all the decent part of the community are in their cavies by half-past nine in the evening , and as it was now `` the witching time o ' night , '' there was not a soul in the streets that we saw , except a solitary town guard now and then , lurking about some dark corner under the piazzas . These same streets , which were wide and comfortable enough in the daytime , had become unaccountably narrow and intricate since six o'clock in the evening ; and , although the object of the party was to convoy Captain Transom and myself to our boat at the Ordnance Wharf , it struck me that we were as frequently on a totally different tack . `` I say , Cringle , my boy , '' stuttered out my superior , Lieutenant and Captain being both drowned in and equalized by the claret -- `` why , Tom , Tom Cringle , you dog -- do n't you hear your superior officer speak , sir , eh ? '' My superior officer , during this address , was standing with both arms round a pillar of the piazza . `` I am here , sir , '' said I. `` Why , I know that ; but why do n't you speak when I Hillo where 's Aaron , and Fyall , and the rest , eh ? ''