Seven o'clock
Returning to her room , she settled down on the window-seat , and watched the blaze of the bonfire increase as the short day faded . The grey became black . It was six o'clock , and neither her father nor Mary Jane had returned . Seven o'clock struck from the tall clock in the kitchen , and was echoed ten minutes after by the Dutch clock in the parlour below . The sound whirred up through the planching twice as loud as usual . It was shameful to be left alone like this , to be robbed , murdered , goodness knew what . The bonfire began to die out , but every now and then a circle of small black figures would join hands and dance round it , scattering wildly after a moment or two .