midnight
He is one of the Walthams of Virginia , a black sheep , true , but a Waltham . Of this I am convinced , just as utterly as I am convinced that Mr. Pike will kill him if he learns who he is . Let me tell how I have discovered all this . It was last night , shortly before midnight , when I came up on the poop to enjoy a whiff of the south - east trades in which we are now bowling along , close-hauled in order to weather Cape San Roque . Mr. Pike had the watch , and I paced up and down with him while he told me old pages of his life . He has often done this , when not `` sea-grouched , '' and often he has mentioned with pride -- yes , with reverence -- a master with whom he sailed five years . `` Old Captain Somers , '' he called him -- `` the finest , squarest , noblest man I ever sailed under , sir . ''