eleven o'clock
As I draw my curtain I catch sight of a letter on my drawer-top , and I sink back with a sigh of content . `` A grey eye or so ! '' I feel strangely to-night , and I can not sleep . As I woke , Six Bells , eleven o'clock , was striking , half carried away by the wind . For the storm is rising , and a beam sea sends wave after wave against my ports . Now and then , in the lulls , I feel the race of the propeller as she rises from the water , sending vast tremors through the frame of the empty ship . How she rolls !