eleven o'clock
`` At what distance are we from Fort Royal ? '' he asked him . `` A league at most , sir . '' Chemerant pulled out his watch and said to Croustillac , `` if the wind is good at eleven o'clock , we might be under sail and _ en route _ for the coast of Cornwall , where glory awaits you , my lord . '' `` I hope so , sir , without which it would be absurd in me to go there . But apropos of our enterprise , it seems to be a bad beginning to inaugurate it with a murder . '' `` What do you mean , your highness ? ''