seven o'clock
I merely wearied myself without being able to arrive at even a plausible conjecture , except that it seemed as though the strange coincidence of date might point to some ghastly charm or incantation which could only be carried out on one certain night of the year . It must have been near morning when , quite exhausted , I fell into an uneasy slumber in the arm-chair where I sat . My sleep , however brief , was peopled with a succession of fantastic visions , in which I continually saw Sir John , not ill and wasted as now , but vigorous and handsome as I had known him at Oxford , standing beside a glowing brazier and reciting words I could not understand , while another man with a sneering white face sat in a corner playing the air of the _ Gagliarda _ on a violin . Parnham woke me in my chair at seven o'clock ; his master , he said , was still sleeping easily . I had made up my mind that as soon as he awoke I would inquire of Sir John as to the pages missing from the diary ; but though my expectation and excitement were at a high pitch , I was forced to restrain my curiosity , for Sir John 's slumber continued late into the day . Dr. Bruton called in the morning , and said that this sleep was what the patient 's condition most required , and was a distinctly favourable symptom ; he was on no account to be disturbed . Sir John did not leave his bed , but continued dozing all day till the evening .