half past eight
Margaret bent steadily over her work , listening with covert intentness for the click of the street gate . Likely enough Richard had been unable to find any one to take charge of his hand-baggage . Presently Mr. Slocum could not resist the impulse to look at his watch . It was half past eight . He nervously unfolded The Stillwater Gazette , and sat with his eyes fastened on the paper . After a seemingly interminable period the heavy bell of the South Church sounded nine , and then tolled for a few minutes , as the dismal custom is in New England country towns . A long silence followed , unrelieved by any word between father and daughter , -- a silence so profound that the heart of the old-fashioned time-piece , throbbing monotonously in its dusky case at the foot of the stairs , made itself audible through the room .