twelve o'clock
As she came to this platform , round which the trees receded a little so as to admit the moonlight , the old woman was tired . She would have gladly chosen another spot to rest in , but fatigue was imperious ; and she sat down under the gray stone which stood perpendicularly there , on what had once been the step of a stile , leaning against the rude column behind her . As she sat here she heard the clank of a step approaching measuredly from the Brandon side . It was twelve o'clock now ; the chimes from the Gylingden church-tower had proclaimed that in the distance some minutes before . The honest Gylingden folk seldom heard the tower chimes tell eleven , and gentle and simple had , of course , been long in their beds . The old woman had a secret hatred of this place , and the unexpected sounds made her hold her breath . She peeped round the stone , in whose shadow she was sitting .