Five o’clock
The vine-stems were changing color with the spring ; covering the rifted , battered walls of the old house where squalid cracks were spreading in every direction , with fluted columns and knots and bas-reliefs and uncounted masterpieces of I know not what order of architecture , erected by fairy hands . Fancy had scattered flowers and crimson gems over the gloomy little yard , and Chenier 's _ Camille _ became for David the Eve whom he worshiped , for Lucien a great lady to whom he paid his homage . Poetry had shaken out her starry robe above the workshop where the `` monkeys '' and `` bears '' were grotesquely busy among types and presses . Five o'clock struck , but the friends felt neither hunger nor thirst ; life had turned to a golden dream , and all the treasures of the world lay at their feet . Far away on the horizon lay the blue streak to which Hope points a finger in storm and stress ; and a siren voice sounded in their ears , calling , `` Come , spread your wings ; through that streak of gold or silver or azure lies the sure way of escape from evil fortune ! '' Just at that moment the low glass door of the workshop was opened , and out came Cerizet , an apprentice -LRB- David had brought the urchin from Paris -RRB- . This youth introduced a stranger , who saluted the friends politely , and spoke to David .