eight o'clock
It was during the black rains of February -- Dean and I with our chairs to the fire , waiting for the Eastern mail . The night watchman 's orders were to stop for it if the trains were anywhere near on time . At this storm season the Westbound was frequently behind and the road to town a quagmire . We never looked for Fahey -- he was the man I found there as night watchman -- before eight o'clock . It had rained and snowed off and on since the month began . In the dark , low rooms the fire burned all day . The dining-room , which had blue-green walls in imitation of Flemish tapestry and weathered-oak furniture , was darkened still more by the pines that gave a cloistered look to the view from our back windows into a small , square court , high-walled and spread with pine-needles .