twenty minutes past eight
Such opinions were inevitably just , Mr. Ives was well aware , though not always handed down immediately . If he were to humble the first citizen , Mr. Ives reflected that a better opportunity might present itself . The whistle of the up-train served to strengthen his resolution , for he was reminded thereby that his mill often had occasion to ask favors of the Truro Railroad . In the meantime it was twenty minutes past eight in the town hall , and Mr. Graves had not rapped for order . Deacon Hartington sat as motionless as a stork on the borders of a glassy lake at sunrise , the judge had begun seriously to estimate the gas bill , and Mr. Page had chewed up the end of a pencil . There was one , at least , in the audience of whom the judge could be sure . A certain old soldier in blue sat uncompromisingly on the front bench with his hands crossed over the head of his stick ; but the ladies and gentlemen nearest the door were beginning to vanish , one by one , silently as ghosts , when suddenly the judge sat up .