twenty minutes to noon
Once away from the governor 's palace the people were sparse -- ones and twos and a few groups here and there -- until the gates of the Durend works came in sight . Here there was a larger crowd . There always was a small crowd about the gates , for the number of Belgians who still refused to work was considerable , and these men passed much of their time outside , gloomily scanning the many evidences of abounding work , and discussing in low tones the progress of the war . It wanted only twenty minutes to noon , and at that hour Max knew he would take his last look upon the things of this world . It was hard , he could not help thinking , but -- '' _ Get ready ! _ '' Those words , spoken in English , sounded in his ears . They seemed uttered in the sing-song tones he knew so well , in which the starter of a rowing contest prepared to send off the crews waiting in eager readiness before him .