nine o'clock
Another sleepless night dragged its leaden hours to meet the dawn , bringing no rest to the desolate soul , who silently grappled with fate , while every womanly instinct shuddered at the loathsome degradation forced upon her . Face downward on her hard , narrow cot , she recalled the terrible accusations , the opprobrious epithets , and tearless , convulsive sobs of passionate protest shook her from head to foot . Tortured with indignation and shame , at the insults heaped upon her , yet sternly resolved to endure silently , these nights were veritable stations along her Via Dolorosa ; and fortified her for the daily flagellation in front of the jury-box . On Thursday a slow , sleeting rain enveloped the world in a gray cowl , bristling with ice needles ; yet when Judge Parkman took his seat at nine o'clock , there was a perceptible increase in the living mass , packed in every available inch of space . For the first time , Mr. Dunbar 's seat between his colleagues was vacant ; and Mr. Churchill and Mr. Wolverton were conversing in an animated whisper . Clad in mourning garments , and with a long crape veil put back from her face , the prisoner was escorted to her accustomed place ; and braced by a supreme effort for the critical hour , which she felt assured was at hand , her pale set features gleamed like those of a marble statue shrouded in black . Called to the stand , Simon Frisby testified that `` he was telegraph operator , and night train despatcher for railway in X -- .