the hour of nine
Nathless , the unarmed citizen was scared by these dank and dreary shadows , whilst the city watchman , mindful of his own safety , was wont to pass the mean street by . Only my Lord Protector 's new police-patrol fresh to its onerous task , solemnly marched down it once in twenty-four hours , keeping shoulder to shoulder , looking neither to right nor left , thankful when either issue was once more within sight . But in this same evening in August , 1657 , it seemed as if quite a number of people had business in Bath Street off the Strand . At any rate this was specially noticeable after St. Mary 's had struck the hour of nine , when several cloaked and hooded figures slipped , one after another , some singly , others in groups of two or three , into the shadow of the narrow lane . They all walked in silence , and did not greet one another as they passed ; some cast from time to time furtive looks behind them ; but every one of these evening prowlers seemed to have the same objective , for as soon as they reached the crippled archway , they disappeared within the gloom of its yawning mouth . Anon when the police-patrol had gone by and was lost in the gloom there where Bath Street debouches on the river bank , two of these heavily cloaked figures walked rapidly down from the Strand , and like the others slipped quickly under the archway , and made straight for the narrow door on the left of the passage . This door was provided with a heavy bronze knocker , but strangely enough the newcomers did not avail themselves of its use , but rapped on the wooden panels with their knuckles , giving three successive raps at regular intervals .