five o’clock
Ever darting troubled glances around him , he was tortured by internal combats , which , without the slightest motive , made him descend the stairs a dozen times , linger before the machinery in motion , and then return to his additions up above , with the bewildered , distracted air of one who could not find what he sought so painfully . When the darkness fell , about four o'clock on that gloomy winter day , the two clerks whom he had with him in his office noticed that he altogether ceased working . From that moment , indeed , he waited with his eyes fixed upon the clock . And when five o'clock struck he once more made sure that a certain total was correct , then rose and went out , leaving the ledger open , as if he meant to return to check the next addition . He followed the gallery which led to the passage connecting the workshops with the private house . The whole factory was at that hour lighted up , electric lamps cast the brightness of daylight over it , while the stir of work ascended and the walls shook amid the rumbling of machinery . And all at once , before reaching the passage , Morange perceived the lift , the terrible cavity , the abyss of murder in which Blaise had met his death fourteen years previously .