midnight
`` The old fool 's sitting in the taproom as drunk as an owl , and I was reckonin ' that you an ' me between us might get him home quiet before the house fills up an ' mischief begins ; for by the looks of it there 'll be Newgate-let-loose in Falmouth streets to-night . '' I answered that this was very thoughtful of him ; and so it was , and , moreover , providential that he had dropped in at the Plume of Feathers for two-pennyworth of cider to celebrate the day . We found Captain Coffin seated in a corner of the taproom settle , puffing at an empty pipe and staring at vacancy . `` Drunk as an owl '' described his condition to a nicety ; for at a certain stage in his drinking all the world became mirk midnight to him , and he would grope his way home through the traffic at high noon in profound , pathetic belief that darkness and slumber wrapped the streets ; on which occasions the dialogue between him and the barber 's parrot might be counted on to touch high comedy . I knew this , and knew also that in the next stage he would recover his eyesight , and at the same time turn dangerously quarrelsome . If Mr. Goodfellow and I could start him home quietly , he would have reason to thank us to-morrow . We were bending over him to persuade him -- at first , with small success , for he continued to stare and mutter as our voices coaxed without penetrating his muddled intelligence -- when a party of ` longshoremen staggered into the taproom , escorting one of the returned prisoners , a thin , sandy-haired , foxy-looking man , with narrow eyes and a neck remarkable for its attenuation and the number and depth of its wrinkles .