six o'clock
He was still ascending , but the ground was rough and piled with small stones , which had crumbled off from the main wall and lay in heaps beneath it . He knew enough about Scottish mountains to expect to find an opening in the wall large enough to enable him to creep into some kind of shelter ; he was not disappointed , for soon he came upon a crevice -- not deep enough to be called a cave , but affording some temporary relief from the storm , which had by this time assumed a furious aspect . The retreat happened to be under the lee of the rock , so that although it had little depth , he was protected from the violence of the storm ; the relief was great after the fatiguing struggle he had been undergoing . He managed to strike a match and look at his watch ; it was only six o'clock . Had he to pass the night in that chill and dreary region ? Gruesome anecdotes rushed tormentingly to memory . It was but last winter that he had read of the finding of a man 's body , stark and cold , not fifty yards from his own threshold ; he had fallen helpless , faint from incessant struggling through the snow-drifts and too weak to make his cries for help heard above the rushing of the wind and the swish of the snow on the window behind which his terrified wife was anxiously awaiting his coming .