eight o'clock
Phantom-like women who , when young , had led lives of infamy in wealth , and who now , old and faded , led lives of infamy in poverty , were still and ever wandering past him in search of bread , when suddenly a shadowy form grazed him , and a voice murmured in his ear : `` Warn your brother , the police are on Salvat 's track , he may be arrested at any moment . '' The shadowy figure was already going its way , and as a gas ray fell upon it , Pierre thought that he recognised the pale , pinched face of Victor Mathis . And at the same time , yonder in Abbe Rose 's peaceful dining-room , he fancied he could again see the gentle face of Madame Mathis , so sad and so resigned , living on solely by the force of the last trembling hope which she had unhappily set in her son . ALREADY at eight o'clock on that holiday-making mid-Lent Thursday , when all the offices of the Home Department were empty , Monferrand , the Minister , sat alone in his private room . A single usher guarded his door , and in the first ante-chamber there were only a couple of messengers . The Minister had experienced , on awaking , the most unpleasant of emotions . The `` Voix du Peuple , '' which on the previous day had revived the African Railway scandal , by accusing Barroux of having pocketed 20,000 francs , had that morning published its long-promised list of the bribe-taking senators and deputies .