twelve o'clock
I 'll bring thee another drop o ' water . '' `` Aye , Mother , do , '' said Adam , kindly ; `` I 'm getting very thirsty . '' In half an hour all was quiet ; no sound was to be heard in the house but the loud ticking of the old day-clock and the ringing of Adam 's tools . The night was very still : when Adam opened the door to look out at twelve o'clock , the only motion seemed to be in the glowing , twinkling stars ; every blade of grass was asleep . Bodily haste and exertion usually leave our thoughts very much at the mercy of our feelings and imagination ; and it was so to-night with Adam . While his muscles were working lustily , his mind seemed as passive as a spectator at a diorama : scenes of the sad past , and probably sad future , floating before him and giving place one to the other in swift succession . He saw how it would be to-morrow morning , when he had carried the coffin to Broxton and was at home again , having his breakfast : his father perhaps would come in ashamed to meet his son 's glance -- would sit down , looking older and more tottering than he had done the morning before , and hang down his head , examining the floor-quarries ; while Lisbeth would ask him how he supposed the coffin had been got ready , that he had slinked off and left undone -- for Lisbeth was always the first to utter the word of reproach , although she cried at Adam 's severity towards his father .