eight o'clock
Cheer up , girls ! You 'll soon be in Whitcombe now . '' An hour afterwards , very footsore and weary , the party limped into Whitcombe , a small hamlet consisting of a wayside inn and a handful of cottages . It was eight o'clock , and the sun , behind long bars of crimson and grey , had already begun to sink below the horizon . They were nine miles away from home , as the stream had led them in quite a different direction from Linforth , and , as Leonard expressed it , they had `` altogether landed themselves in a jolly pickle '' . Just at present tea seemed the most pressing necessity , so a council of war was held to see what funds could be mustered for the purpose . These did not amount to very much .