six o'clock in the evening
she said . But a moment 's reflection proved to her the folly of this impulse . If she should use the fire in her stove for such incendiary purposes , herself would be the only thing burned up ; the cell of stone and its furniture of iron would escape with a smoking . She put off her bonnet and her sables -- the first time since the night before , and she threw herself upon the bed , and lay there in a torment until six o'clock in the evening , when the door was once more unlocked by the dame , who brought her the prison supper -- a tin can of oatmeal porridge . `` Here 's your parritch ; ye may eat it or leave it , just as ye please , '' said the woman , setting the can on the floor . `` I want some tea ! I will have none of your filthy messes !