three o'clock in the morning
Upon the other side of this lawn she saw the dark frontage of Maudesley Abbey , and three tall lighted windows gleaming through the night . The man who called himself Henry Dunbar was lying on the tapestried cushions of a carved oaken couch that stood before the fire in his spacious sitting-room . He lay there , listening to the March wind roaring in the broad chimney , and watching the blazing coals and the crackling logs of wood . It was three o'clock in the morning now , and the servants had left the room at midnight ; but the sick man had ordered a huge fire to be made up -- a fire that promised to last for some hours . The master of Maudesley Abbey was in no way improved by his long imprisonment . His complexion had faded to a dull leaden hue ; his cheeks were sunken ; his eyes looked unnaturally large and unnaturally bright . Long hours of loneliness , long sleepless nights , and thoughts that from every diverging point for ever narrowed inwards to one hideous centre , had done their work of him .