eleven o'clock
Of that which lay above in the darkening East , no man spoke or appeared to think . There was ruby wine in our glasses ; the little French girls capered about us like nymphs from the sea ; we spoke of the old time , of sunny days in the blue Mediterranean , of wilder days off the English shores , of our homes so distant and our hopes so high ; but never once of the night or that which must befall . _ Monday . At eleven o'clock . _ We have now been at our stations for two hours and nothing has transpired . I have Clair-de-Lune with me at the great sea-gate , and Dolly Venn and Seth Barker are at the gun . The night is so dark that the best trained eye can distinguish little either on sea or land .