Midnight
The new arrival was received by the gaoler , a man with bristly grey hair , a prominent forehead , and pronounced features which incessant ill-humour had twisted into a lasting grimace . Who would not be ill-humoured indeed , were he forced to spend a blameless life in a dungeon among thieves and murderers and even -- worst of all -- among those who had been foolishly led astray ? Directly he saw the tottering , shadowy figure of the prisoner come round the pillar , he knew the blow had fallen . Midnight had struck for the poor fellow . Annoyed that such people should let themselves be so stupidly taken by surprise , he had continually snubbed him harshly . To-day he accompanied him to his cell in silence , and when opening it avoided rattling the keys . But he could not help looking through the spy-hole to see what the poor fellow would do .