the hour of ten
It was a busy place on a fine summer 's afternoon , when the court and burghers met and saluted ; but at that hour of the night in the early spring it was deserted to the roosting birds . Hares rustled among the covert ; here and there a statue stood glimmering , with its eternal gesture ; here and there the echo of an imitation temple clattered ghostly to the trampling of the mare . Ten minutes brought him to the upper end of his own home garden , where the small stables opened , over a bridge , upon the park . The yard clock was striking the hour of ten ; so was the big bell in the palace bell-tower ; and , farther off , the belfries of the town . About the stable all else was silent but the stamping of stalled horses and the rattle of halters . Otto dismounted ; and as he did so a memory came back to him : a whisper of dishonest grooms and stolen corn , once heard , long forgotten , and now recurring in the nick of opportunity . He crossed the bridge , and , going up to a window , knocked six or seven heavy blows in a particular cadence , and , as he did so , smiled .