the hour of eleven
It whispers to the criminal in his cell ; and the downy pillows and sumptuous drapery around the couch of Wealth can not keep it away at midnight . There is not a house but has its skeleton . There is a ghastly one in Flint 's . The silvery lips in Trinity steeple chime the hour of eleven ; St. Paul 's catch it up , and hosts of belfrys toss the hour to and fro like a shuttle-cork . Then the goblin bells hush themselves to sleep again in their dizzy nests , murmuring , murmuring ! -- and the pen of the pale book-keeper keeps time with the ticking of the office time-piece . It is nearly twelve o'clock when he reaches the door of a common two-story house in Marion-street .