two o'clock
A cry of stubborn and mysterious rebellion bursts forth -- `` They 'd take the very skin off us ! '' There follows a single , `` Do n't fret yourself ! '' as darkly inconsequent as the cry of revolt . I wake up a long time afterwards , as two o'clock is striking ; and in a pallor of light which doubtless comes from the moon , I see the agitated silhouette of Pinegal . A cock has crowed afar . Pinegal raises himself halfway to a sitting position , and I hear his husky voice : `` Well now , it 's the middle of the night , and there 's a cock loosing his jaw . He 's blind drunk , that cock . ''