twelve o'clock
`` Let us pray the good God to protect him this night , wife , '' answered Baptiste , no longer pretending that he did not believe in this strange legend , in which nearly all his race in his station in life have faith . While they were on their knees praying , the yellow-faced clock behind the stove struck the hour of midnight . '' _ Mon Dieu ! _ twelve o'clock ! '' The anxious mother sprang to her feet , ran to the door , opened it , and standing on the steps shaded her eyes with her hand , and looked earnestly down the long snow-clad road in the direction of the little village of St. Pascal . Behind her stood Baptiste , also shading his weak eyes and looking . Not a human being was in sight .