nine o'clock
He assured me , in response to my inquiries , that no better place could be found in the South than the State and neighborhood where he lived ; the climate was perfect for health , and , in conjunction with the soil , ideal for grape-culture ; labor was cheap , and land could be bought for a mere song . He gave us a cordial invitation to come and visit him while we looked into the matter . We accepted the invitation , and after several days of leisurely travel , the last hundred miles of which were up a river on a sidewheel steamer , we reached our destination , a quaint old town , which I shall call Patesville , because , for one reason , that is not its name . There was a red brick market-house in the public square , with a tall tower , which held a four-faced clock that struck the hours , and from which there pealed out a curfew at nine o'clock . There were two or three hotels , a court-house , a jail , stores , offices , and all the appurtenances of a county seat and a commercial emporium ; for while Patesville numbered only four or five thousand inhabitants , of all shades of complexion , it was one of the principal towns in North Carolina , and had a considerable trade in cotton and naval stores . This business activity was not immediately apparent to my unaccustomed eyes . Indeed , when I first saw the town , there brooded over it a calm that seemed almost sabbatic in its restfulness , though I learned later on that underneath its somnolent exterior the deeper currents of life -- love and hatred , joy and despair , ambition and avarice , faith and friendship -- flowed not less steadily than in livelier latitudes .