the hour of nine
`` You speak well , '' said the Hermit , musingly , `` and I may trust you ; I will consider yet a little longer , and to-morrow at this hour you shall have my final answer . If you execute the charge I entrust to you , may the blessing of a dying and most wretched man cleave to you forever ! But hush ; the clock strikes : it is my hour of prayer . '' And , pointing to a huge black clock that hung opposite the door , and indicated the hour of nine -LRB- according to our English mode of numbering the hours -RRB- , the Hermit fell on his knees , and , clasping his hands tightly , bent his face over them in the attitude of humiliation and devotion . I followed his example . After a few minutes he rose : `` Once in every three hours , '' said he , with a ghastly expression , `` for the last twelve years have I bowed my soul in anguish before God , and risen to feel that it was in vain : I am cursed without and within ! '' `` My Father , my Father , is this your faith in the mercies of the Redeemer who died for man ? ''