evening about eight o'clock
The locality was Mosman 's Bay , one of the many picturesque indentations of the beautiful harbour of Sydney . In those days the houses were few and far apart , and our own dwelling was surrounded on all sides by the usual monotonous-hued Australian forest of iron barks and spotted gums , traversed here and there by tracks seldom used , as the house was far back from the main road , leading from the suburb of St. Leonards to Middle Harbour . The building itself was in the form of a quadrangle enclosing a courtyard , on to which nearly all the rooms opened ; each room having a bell over the door , the wires running all round the square , while the front-door bell , which was an extra large affair , hung in the hall , the `` pull '' being one of the old-fashioned kind , an iron sliding-rod suspended from the outer wall plate , where it connected with the wire . One cold and windy evening about eight o'clock , my mother , my sisters , and myself were sitting in the dining-room awaiting the arrival of my brothers from Sydney -- they attended school there , and rowed or sailed the six miles to and fro every day , generally returning home by dusk . On this particular evening , however , they were late , on account of the wind blowing rather freshly from the north-east ; but presently we heard the front-door bell ring gently . `` Here they are at last , '' said my mother ; `` but how silly of them to go to the front door on such a windy night , tormenting boys ! '' Julia , the servant , candle in hand , went along the lengthy passage , and opened the door .