twelve o’clock
Grouped together were Sanguinetti and his two friends , in easy , whispered talk . At a little distance from them , Garnache paced up and down to keep himself warm . He had thrown his cloak over his shoulders again , and with sword tucked under arm and head thrust forward , he stamped backwards and forwards , the very picture of ill-humour . Fifteen minutes passed ; twelve o'clock boomed from the Church of Saint Francois d'Assisi and still Monsieur Gaubert returned not . Garnache stood still a moment , in angry thought . This must not go on . There must be an end , and at once .