ten o'clock
But before dawn they were off again . Snow lay in thick drifts on the skirts of the great moor , and snow whirled about them as they climbed , until day broke upon a howling desert , across which Dorothea peered but could discern no features . Not leagues but years divided Bayfield from this tableland , high over all the world , uninhabited , without tree or gate or hedge . Her eyes were heavy with lack of sleep , smarting with the bite of the north wind , which neither ceased nor eased until , towards ten o'clock , the carriage began to lumber downhill towards Two Bridges , under the lee of Crockern Tor . Beyond came a heavy piece of collar work , the horses dropping to a walk as they heaved through the drifts towards a depression between two tors closing the view ahead . Dorothea 's eyes , avoiding the wind , were fixed on the tor to the left , when Endymion touched her hand and pointed towards the base of the other . There , grey -- almost black -- against the white hillside , a mass of masonry loomed up through the weather ; the great circle of the War Prison .