eleven o'clock
On Saturday morning the little town of Carrick-on-Shannon again became quiet and , comparatively speaking , empty . The judges left it very early ; most of the lawyers had taken wing and flown towards Sligo , seeking fresh quarries , on the previous evening . The jury were released , and had returned weary to their homes ; the crowds of litigants and witnesses who had filled the Record Court had also left on the Thursday evening ; and now those who had been wanted in the criminal court were gone , and peace and quiet were restored . At eleven o'clock neither of the hotels were open ; the waiters and servants who , during the last week had literally not known what a bed was , and who , during that week , had snatched their only disturbed naps before the kitchen fires , or under the kitchen dressers , were taking their sleep out for the past week . It was still raining hard , and the long , narrow , untidy street was still as dirty and disagreeable as ever ; otherwise there was no resemblance in it to the street of the last few days . There was no crowd around the court house , nor policemen with cross chains on their caps , nor sheriffs ' servants with dirty , tawdry liveries . The assizes were over ; and till next July -- when the judges , barristers , jury , & c. , would all return , Carrick was doomed to fall back to its usual insignificance as a most uninteresting county town .