six o'clock
And as she looked , the white , living breakers gradually resolved them-selves out of the dark , thin filmy phosphorescence , and the roar of the lashed sea broke like thunder upon the pebbled beach . She leaned a little more forward , carried away with her fancy -- that the shrill grinding of the pebbles was indeed the scream of human voices in pain ! With the coming of dawn the storm passed away northwards , across a sea snow-flecked and still panting with its fury , and leaving behind many traces of its violence , even upon these waste and empty places . A lurid sunrise gave little promise of better weather , but by six o'clock the wind had fallen , and the full tide was swelling the creeks . On a sand-bank , far down amongst the marshes , Jeanne stood hatless , with her hair streaming in the breeze , her face turned seaward , her eyes full of an unexpected joy . Everywhere she saw traces of the havoc wrought in the night . The tall rushes lay broken and prostrate upon the ground ; the beach was strewn with timber from the breaking up of an ancient wreck .