nearly nine o'clock
The whole place was in the utmost confusion : the men were hurrying to and fro , hardly knowing what they were doing or going to do : the most ardent of them were already a quarter of a mile advanced on the road to Saumur ; others were still following them ; those who knew that they should have stayed quiet during the night , were in the utmost distress ; they did not know whether to support their comrades , or to remain where they were . '' ` What ails them , Peter ? '' said Cathelineau , catching hold of the arm of a man who had followed him from St. Florent , `` if they advance they will be destroyed at Varin ; '' and as he spoke , he leapt upon the top of one of the waggons laden with provisions , which had come from Durbellière . It was a beautiful warm evening in June , and the air was heavy with the sweet scent of the flowering hedges ; it was now nearly nine o'clock , and the sun had set ; but the whole western horizon was gorgeous with the crimson streaks which accompanied its setting . Standing in the waggon , Cathelineau could see the crowds of hurrying royalists rushing along the road , wherever the thick foliage of trees was sufficiently broken to leave any portion of it visible , and he could hear the eager hum of their voices both near him and at a distance . `` No power on earth could bring them back , '' said he . `` Now , Peter , run to the stable for your life ; my horse is there and M. de Lescure 's -- bring them both .