two o’clock
My nerves were already keyed to a breaking pitch , and the ghost-like tread in the hall angered me -- Morgan , or his ally , Bates , I reflected , at some new trick . I ran into my room , found a heavy walking-stick and set off for Bates ' room on the third floor . It was always easy to attribute any sort of mischief to the fellow , and undoubtedly he was crawling through the house somewhere on an errand that boded no good to me . It was now past two o'clock and he should have been asleep and out of the way long ago . I crept to his room and threw open the door without , I must say , the slightest idea of finding him there . But Bates , the enigma , Bates , the incomparable cook , the perfect servant , sat at a table , the light of several candles falling on a book over which he was bent with that maddening gravity he had never yet in my presence thrown off . He rose at once , stood at attention , inclining his head slightly .