One minute to eight
But will he survive it ? Mr. Challoner , '' he suddenly shouted in that gentleman 's ear , `` what time is it now ? '' Mr. Challoner , disengaging himself from their mutual grasp , knelt down by the lantern to consult his watch . `` One minute to eight , '' he shouted back . The forest was now a pandemonium . Great boughs , split from their parent trunks , fell crashing to the ground in all directions . The scream of the wind roused echoes which repeated themselves , here , there and everywhere .