eleven o’clock
He might be an archæological traveller eager about new-discovered relics and curious about ruined temples . He might be a yachting man , who only cared for Salamis as good anchorage , nor thought of the Acropolis , except as a point of departure ; or he might be one of those myriads who travel without knowing where , or caring why : airing their ennui now at Thebes , now at Trolhatten ; a weariful , dispirited race , who rarely look so thoroughly alive as when choosing a cigar or changing their money . There was no reason why the ` distinguished Mr. Atlee ' might not be one of these -- he was accredited , too , by his Minister , and his ` solidarity , ' as the French call it , was beyond question . While yet revolving these points , a kavass -- with much gold in his jacket , and a voluminous petticoat of white calico -- came to inform him that his Excellency the Prince hope to see him at breakfast at eleven o'clock ; and it now only wanted a few minutes of that hour . Atlee detained the messenger to show him the road , and at last set out . Traversing one dreary , ill-built street after another , they arrived at last at what seemed a little lane , the entrance to which carriages were denied by a line of stone posts , at the extremity of which a small green gate appeared in a wall . Pushing this wide open , the kavass stood respectfully , while Atlee passed in , and found himself in what for Greece was a garden .