eleven o'clock
Then the air reappeared , charming , but always sad , and reaching notes so high that one would have thought only silver or glass could produce them . Then a gun was heard , that of the chief beater , announcing that all was ready . The three flutes vanished inside the game-bags , the musicians took their guns and again became hunters , ear and eye strained to the utmost . Count Karl knocked at eleven o'clock at Baron von Bülow 's door , having heard both of his return and his accident . Frederic received him with an unusually smiling countenance , but only offered his left hand . `` Ah ! then , it is true , is it ?