five
minutes past eleven
And , moreover , there was a lass at the Cameronian kirk , a daughter of the Arkland grieve , whose curls he rather liked to see in the seat before him . He had known her when he went to the neighbouring farm to harvest -- for in that lowland district the corn was all cut and led , before it was time to begin it on the scanty upland crop which was gathered into the barns of Drumquhat . Luckily , she sat in a line with the minister ; and when she was there , two sermons on end were not too long . The clean red farm-cart rattled into the town of Cairn Edward at five minutes past eleven . The burghers looked up and said , `` Hoo is the clock ? '' Some of them went so far as to correct any discrepancy in their time-keepers , for all the world knew that the Drumquhat cart was not a moment too soon or too late , so long as Saunders had the driving of it . Times had not been too good of late ; and for some years -- indeed , ever since the imposition of the tax on light-wheeled vehicles -- the `` tax-cart '' had slumbered wheelless in the back of the peat-shed , and the Drumquhat folk had driven a well-cleaned , heavy-wheeled red cart both to kirk and market .