nearly six o’clock
With his stick under his arm , Mr Villiers trudged merrily along in a happy humour , as if he was bent on pleasure instead of robbery . And after all , as he said to himself , it could not be called a genuine robbery , as everything belonging to his wife was his by right of the marriage service , and he was only going to have his own again . With this comfortable thought he climbed slowly up the broken tortuous path which led to the Black Hill , and every now and then would pause to rest , and admire the view . It was now nearly six o'clock , and the sun was sinking amid a blaze of splendour . The whole of the western sky was a sea of shimmering gold , and this , intensified near the horizon to almost blinding brightness , faded off towards the zenith of the sky into a delicate green , and thence melted imperceptibly into a cold blue . Villiers , however , being of the earth , earthy , could not be troubled looking very long at such a common-place sight as a sunset ; the same thing occurred every evening , and he had more important things to do than to waste his time gratifying his artistic eye . Arriving on the plateau of earth just in front of the gully , he was soon entering the narrow gorge , and tramped steadily along in deep thought , with bent head and wrinkled brows .