About two o’clock
A week passed , and another Sunday came , -- a Sunday so still and hot and moist that steam seemed to rise from the heavy trees , -- an idle day for master and servant alike . A hush was in the air , and a presage of we knew not what . It weighed upon my spirits , and even Nick 's , and we wandered restlessly under the trees , seeking for distraction . About two o'clock a black line came on the horizon , and slowly crept higher until it broke into giant , fantastic shapes . Mutterings arose , but the sun shone hot as ever . `` We 're to have a hurricane , '' said Nick . `` I wish we might have it and be done with it . ''