eight
o'clock
And , when our two friends began to sob , she added , lovingly : `` Do not cry , my dear little ones ... . I have not a voice like Water ; I have only my brightness , which Man does not understand ... . But I watch over him to the end of his days ... . Never forget that I am speaking to you in every spreading moonbeam , in every twinkling star , in every dawn that rises , in every lamp that is lit , in every good and bright thought of your soul ... '' At that moment , the grandfather 's clock in the cottage struck eight o'clock . Light stopped for a moment and then , in a voice that grew suddenly fainter , whispered : `` Good-bye ! ... Good-bye ! ... The hour is striking !