twelve o'clock
Beyond the town one could follow the silver rails through the green plantations for miles , as plainly as on a map , until they finally disappeared on the horizon . Now the whistle of the tug sounded shrilly , blowing scattered flakes of white steam into the air . The quick , clear tolling of church-bells rang over the roofs of the bright houses of the city . It was twelve o'clock and the sun 's rays were scorching hot . One of the naval officers pulled out his watch to see if it were correct , and then said : `` Shall we go down and get something to eat first , Ben ? '' `` The steamers from Havana ought really to be in sight by this time , '' answered Ben Wood ; `` they left on the twenty-sixth . '' `` Well , yes , on the twenty-sixth .