6:30 P.M.
The next day dawned and trailed its tiresome hours after it , as a prisoner might trail his chain of iron fetters , until sunset , and then -- then , when the gray of the wintry sky flashed for a brief space into glowing red -- then , while the water looked like blood and the clouds like flame -- then a few words sped along the telegraph wires that stilled my impatience , roused my soul , and braced every nerve and muscle in my body to instant action . They were plain , clear , and concise : `` From Guido Ferrari , Rome , to Il Conte Cesare Oliva , Naples . -- Shall be with you on the 24th inst . Train arrives at 6:30 P.M. Will come to you as you desire without fail . '' Christmas Eve ! The day had been extra chilly , with frequent showers of stinging rain , but toward five o'clock in the afternoon the weather cleared . The clouds , which had been of a dull uniform gray , began to break asunder and disclose little shining rifts of pale blue and bright gold ; the sea looked like a wide satin ribbon shaken out and shimmering with opaline tints .