twelve o'clock noon
He saw her as he had known her in the wilderness -- not as fancy might now depict her , the daughter of a marquis -- a strolling player , and as such he loved best to think of her . Arising out of his physical weakness and the period of inaction following the treaty of peace , he experienced a sudden homesickness for his native land ; a desire to re-visit familiar scenes , to breathe the sweet air of the country , where his boyhood had been passed , to listen to the thunder of the boulevards , to watch the endless , sad-joyful processions . Not far distant from the blossoming , redolent square was the office of the Trans-Atlantic Steamship Company , where a clerk , with a spray of jessamine in his coat , bent cordially toward Saint-Prosper as the latter entered , and , approaching the desk , inquired : `` The Dauphin is advertised to sail to-morrow for France ? '' `` Yes , sir ; at twelve o'clock noon . '' `` Book me for a berth . Ernest Saint-Prosper , '' he added , in answer to the other 's questioning look . `` Very good , sir .