twenty-five
minutes to two
`` How do you mean , sir ? '' I asked . `` Well , '' he said , `` it is an odd story . The doctor was sitting with me , watching the old man , and , as I tell you , at twenty-five minutes to two , he got up and said it was all over . We stood together , talking in whispers for , it might be , four or five minutes , when the body seemed to move . He was an odd old man , you know , the Commodore , and we never could get him properly to bed , but he lay in his red nightcap and old dressing-gown , with a blanket over him . It was not a pleasant sight , I can tell you , sir .