the hour of twelve
So much for system and a clear conscience . Gradually the chill wore away and Hawkins slumbered , warm and serene despite the wrath of the winds which battered against the walls of his habitation . At just what minute sleep came he did not know . He heard the clock striking the hour of twelve . Of that he was sure , because he counted the strokes up to nine before they ran into a confused jangle . He remembered wondering dimly if any one had been able to distinguish the precise instant when sleep succeeds wakefulness . At any rate , he slept .