nine o'clock
And her rapt eyes looking up , seemed to pierce beyond the flaming sky-vault overhead . She forgot all else , suddenly snatched from earthly consciousness to beatific realisation of the Divine . There had been for some minutes now a lull in the bombardment from the ridges . The enemy 's guns were silent a space , and the hot batteries of harassed Gueldersdorp snatched a brief respite while Boers gathered for the nine o'clock coffee-drinking round their little snapping fires of dried dung and tindery bush . Now and then a rifle cracked , and a bullet sang past or whitted in the dust . But comparative peace brooded over the shattered hamlet of wrecked homes and ploughed-up , littered roads , and raw earthworks blistering in the pitiless sun . `` Miss Mildare . ''