eight o'clock
I do n't think the man knew he was a prisoner . I went in to turn down the bed , and he was sitting by the window , reading the evening paper 's account of the trial -- an elderly gentleman , rather professional-looking . Mr. Holcombe slept on the upper landing of the hall that night , rolled in a blanket -- not that I think his witness even thought of escaping , but the little man was taking no chances . At eight o'clock that night the bell rang . It was Mr. Howell . I admitted him myself , and he followed me back to the dining-room . I had not seen him for several weeks , and the change in him startled me .