midnight
... Ting-a-ring ! ... '' Now the third mass is beginning . There are but a few more steps to be taken to reach the dining-hall ; but , alas ! the nearer the midnight repast approaches the more does the unfortunate Balaguère feel himself possessed by mad impatience and gluttony . The vision becomes more distinct ; the golden carps , the roasted turkeys are there , there ! ... He touches them , ... he ... oh heavens ! The dishes are smoking , the wines perfume the air ; and with furiously agitated clapper , the little bell is crying out to him : `` Quick , quick , quicker yet ! ''