five o’clock in the morning
A small household of the Emperor 's chosen servants quietly kept house there . The gloomy walls re-echoed to no music ; the dark alleys of the dreary garden seemed the very impersonation of solitude and decay . Nothing broke the dull monotony of the tiresome day , except when occasionally , near sunset , the clash of the guard would be heard turning out , and the clank of presenting arms , followed by the roll of a heavy carriage into the gloomy courtyard . One lamp , shining like a star , in a small chamber on the second floor , would remain till near four , sometimes five o'clock in the morning . The same sounds of the guard and the same dull roll of the carriage would break the stillness of the early morning ; and the Emperor -- for it was he -- would be on his road back to Paris . `` We never saw him , -- I say we , for like myself some half-dozen others were also there , expiating their follies by a life of cheerless _ ennui _ . `` It was upon a calm evening in April , we sat together chatting over the various misdeeds which had consigned us to exile , when some one proposed , by way of passing the time , that we should visit the small flower-garden that was parted off from the rest , and reserved for the Emperor alone .