twenty past
eleven
`` Ecco , signore ! '' cried the fellow , snatching the watch from my waistcoat pocket , and putting one black thumb-nail on the long hand , the other on he numeral twelve . `` Mezzogiorno -- poco tempo -- poco tempo ! '' And again I seized his meaning , that it was twenty past eleven , and we must be there by twelve . But where , but where ? It was maddening to be summoned like this , and not to know what had happened , nor to have any means of finding out . But my presence of mind stood by me still , I was improving by seven-league strides , and I crammed my handkerchief between the drum and hammer of the bell before leaving .