twelve o'clock
Day after day passed , and we were impatient to hear from Murden . Mr. Brown had put his police to work to find out the accomplice of Follet , but all attempts to discover him had proved futile . Follet still remained obstinate and defying ; and to add to our misery , our patient was hovering between life and death , and it seemed as though a feather would turn the scale either way . One night , soon after twelve o'clock , and while I was taking my turn watching by the bedside of Mr. Critchet , I heard a gentle tap at the door . I paid no attention to the first summons ; and not until a repetition warned me that some person was desirous of entering , did I cock my revolver , and without disturbing Fred , stole softly to the door , which I unlocked , and discovered a man with a long black beard and slouched hat , standing on the doorsteps , whistling , in a low key , the popular negro tune , just introduced into Australia from California , by a band of negro singers , of `` Nelly Bly . '' `` What is wanted ? '' I asked , bringing my revolver up so as to command his head , in case his visit was hostile .