“Not much more than ten,” I said decisively. “I had only just dropped asleep.”
“It took you a long time to drop, then,” he said drily. “Ah! Look at that bird. It will singe its wings directly.”
“What time is it, then?” I said, for I was more interested in knowing how long I should have to watch in the darkness than in the flight of a bird.
“Like to know exactly, Nat?” said my uncle.
“Of course,” I said, wonderingly.
“You shall, then, my boy. It’s ten minutes, thirty seconds, past six.”
“Nonsense, uncle!” I cried. “The old watch must have stopped. Did you forget to wind it up?”
For answer he held it to my ear, and it was ticking loudly, while as he lowered it and I glanced at the face, I could see that the second hand had moved some distance on.
“Do you think it is right?” I said.
“Yes; we were fagged out last night and slept very soundly. You’ll soon know, for it will be daylight directly.”