the hour of three in the afternoon
Ay , dead or not , this was still the enemy . ` Time was that when the brains were out , ' he thought ; and the first word struck into his mind . Time , now that the deed was accomplished -- time , which had closed for the victim , had become instant and momentous for the slayer . The thought was yet in his mind , when , first one and then another , with every variety of pace and voice -- one deep as the bell from a cathedral turret , another ringing on its treble notes the prelude of a waltz-the clocks began to strike the hour of three in the afternoon . The sudden outbreak of so many tongues in that dumb chamber staggered him . He began to bestir himself , going to and fro with the candle , beleaguered by moving shadows , and startled to the soul by chance reflections . In many rich mirrors , some of home design , some from Venice or Amsterdam , he saw his face repeated and repeated , as it were an army of spies ; his own eyes met and detected him ; and the sound of his own steps , lightly as they fell , vexed the surrounding quiet .