noon
`` And you , '' says I , `` should you be minded to sail with me , go to the Peck-o ' - Malt at Bedgbury Cross -- the word is ` The Faithful Friend , ' and ask for Adam Penfeather . '' So I presently stepped forth of the little tavern where I had found such kindliness and , turning from the narrow lane , struck off across the fields . It was a sweet , warm night , the moon not up as yet , thus as I went I lifted my gaze to the heavens where stars made a glory . And beholding these wondrous fires I needs must recall the little peddler 's saying and ponder his `` good times '' -- his `` times of stars and birds , of noon and eventide , of welcomes sweet and eyes of love . '' And now I was of a sudden filled with a great yearning and passionate desire that I too might know such times . But , as I climbed a stile , my hand by chance came upon the knife at my girdle , and sitting on the stile I drew it forth and fell to handling its broad blade , and , doing so , knew in my heart that such times were not for me , nor ever could be . And sitting there , knife in hand , desire and yearning were lost and ` whelmed in fierce and black despair .