three o'clock
If he were going to send his despatch , he had no time to waste in Saarbrück -- he understood that at a glance . For a moment he thought of going to the Hôtel Post and taking his chances with his brother correspondents ; then , abruptly wheeling his horse , he trotted out into the long shed that formed one of an interminable series of coal shelters , passed through it , gained the outer street , touched up his horse , and tore away , headed straight for Forbach . For he had decided that at Forbach was his chance to beat the other correspondents , and he took the chance , knowing that in case the telegraph there was also occupied he could still get back to Morteyn , and from there to Saint-Lys , before the others had wired to their respective journals . It was three o'clock when he clattered into the single street of Forbach amid the blowing of bugles from a cuirassier regiment that was just leaving at a trot . The streets were thronged with gendarmes and cavalry of all arms , lancers in baggy , scarlet trousers and clumsy schapskas weighted with gold cord , chasseurs à cheval in turquoise blue and silver , dragoons , Spahis , remount-troopers , and here and there a huge rider of the Hundred-Guards , glittering like a scaled dragon in his splendid armour . He pushed his way past the Hôtel Post and into the garden , where , at a table , an old general sat reading letters . With a hasty glance at him , Jack bowed , and asked permission to take the unoccupied chair and use the table .