three o'clock
Action and adventure were in her blood , and she was a strong woman , capable of much exertion , but I had never seen in her before this thirst for pleasure . And to the music of silver hunting horns and the bell-like baying of the dogs , I saw the hunt , with the king , Count Saxe and Francezka , sweep across the Bridge of the Lions and along the broad , bare , leafless avenue , into the forest , in the cold , bright December sunrise . I had not time to join the hunt , and , busy with many duties , scarcely noted how the day slipped away . Toward three o'clock I saw a solitary figure -- a woman -- ride across the bridge . No one else had returned , nor was the hunting party expected until sunset . I recognized Francezka 's form and surmised that , fatigued with all she had undergone , she had slipped away from the hunting party and had returned to the castle to rest . About five o'clock , when the short winter afternoon was closing and the sun was red , I received a message from Francezka .