Five o’clock
But it was better , grim and sombre in the shade , than when , the day being more advanced , it stood confessed in the full glare and glory of the sun , with its black paint blistering , and its nooses dangling in the light like loathsome garlands . It was better in the solitude and gloom of midnight with a few forms clustering about it , than in the freshness and the stir of morning : the centre of an eager crowd . It was better haunting the street like a spectre , when men were in their beds , and influencing perchance the city 's dreams , than braving the broad day , and thrusting its obscene presence upon their waking senses . Five o'clock had struck -- six -- seven -- and eight . Along the two main streets at either end of the cross-way , a living stream had now set in , rolling towards the marts of gain and business . Carts , coaches , waggons , trucks , and barrows , forced a passage through the outskirts of the throng , and clattered onward in the same direction . Some of these which were public conveyances and had come from a short distance in the country , stopped ; and the driver pointed to the gibbet with his whip , though he might have spared himself the pains , for the heads of all the passengers were turned that way without his help , and the coach-windows were stuck full of staring eyes .