When the hands of the clock were close to the hour, they stood ready with their linstocks.
The striking of the silver bell of the clock seemed to smite on our hearts like a knell of doom.

One! Two! Three! Before the third stroke the wicks of the lamps had caught, and I had turned out the electric light.

In the dimness of the struggling lamps, and after the bright glow of the electric light, the room and all within it took weird shapes, and all seemed in an instant to change.
We waited with our hearts beating.

I know mine did, and I fancied I could hear the pulsation of the others.
The seconds seemed to pass with leaden wings.

It were as though all the world were standing still.