six o'clock
He is not crying now , he can shed no more tears , nor fling himself about on his bed , nor give way to despair , as he has been doing for the last two hours and more . He wants to think , to think and understand . And he does not remove his eyes from those same eyes reflected in the glass , as though he hoped to double his powers of thought by contemplating his pensive image , as though he hoped to find at the back of that mirrored Beautrelet the unsolvable solution of what he does not find within himself . He stands thus until six o'clock , and , little by little , the question presents itself to his mind with the strictness of an equation , bare and dry and cleared of all the details that complicate and obscure it . Yes , he has made a mistake . Yes , his reading of the document is all wrong . The word aiguille does not point to the castle on the Creuse .