five o'clock
Pale , alert , intelligent , she stood there minute after minute , searching the single room with anxious , purposeless eyes ; then , driven into restless motion by the torturing tension of anxiety , she paced the loose boards like a tigress , up and down , head lowered , hands clasped against her mouth , worrying the fingers with the edge of her teeth . Outside , through the dirty window glass , she could see sentries in the bushes , all looking steadily in the same direction ; groups of officers under the trees still focused their glasses on the pass . By and by she saw some riflemen in butternut jeans climb into trees , rifles slung across their backs , and disappear far up in the foliage , still climbing . Toward five o'clock , as she was eating the bacon and hoe cakes which she had found in the hut , two infantry officers opened the door , stared at her , then , without ceremony , drew a rough ladder from the corner , set it outside , and the older officer climbed to the roof . She heard him call down to the lieutenant below : `` No use ; I ca n't see any better up here ... . They ought to set a signal man on that rock , yonder ! '' Other officers came over ; one or two spoke respectfully to her , but she did not answer .