three in the morning
When he came looking for them a few minutes later , he only caught , by chance , a glimpse of them , clouded in light wraps and passing to their carriage . It was not yet twelve . Between Marguerite 's chamber and that of one of the daughters of the family there was a door that neither one ever fastened . Somewhere down-stairs a clock was striking three in the morning , when this door softly opened and the daughter stole into Marguerite 's room in her night-robe . With her hair falling about her , her hands unconsciously clasped , her eyes starting , and an outcry of amazement checked just within her open , rounded mouth , she stopped and stood an instant in the brightly lighted chamber . Marguerite sat on the bedside exactly as she had come from the carriage , save that a white gossamer web had dropped from her head and shoulders , and lay coiled about her waist . Her tearless eyes were wide and filled with painful meditation , even when she turned to the alarmed and astonished girl before her .