seven o'clock
Forgetting his own share of miseries , he did all he could to soothe our broken nerves , telling stories of men who had been in somewhat similar circumstances , and miraculously escaped ; and when these failed to cheer us , pointing out how , after all , it was only anticipating an end which must come to us all , that it would soon be over , and that death from exhaustion was a merciful one -LRB- which is not true -RRB- . Then , in a diffident sort of way , as once before I had heard him do , he suggested that we should throw ourselves on the mercy of a higher Power , which for my part I did with great vigour . His is a beautiful character , very quiet , but very strong . And so somehow the day went as the night had gone , if , indeed , one can use these terms where all was densest night , and when I lit a match to see the time it was seven o'clock . Once more we ate and drank , and as we did so an idea occurred to me . `` How is it , '' said I , `` that the air in this place keeps fresh ? It is thick and heavy , but it is perfectly fresh . ''