about midnight
And this , I suppose , was natural , and indeed inevitable , in so long and secret a journey . The first stop , we lay six hours in a barn standing by itself in a poor , marshy orchard , and packed with hay ; to make it more attractive , we were told it had been the scene of an abominable murder , and was now haunted . But the day was beginning to break , and our fatigue was too extreme for visionary terrors . The second or third , we alighted on a barren heath about midnight , built a fire to warm us under the shelter of some thorns , supped like beggars on bread and a piece of cold bacon , and slept like gipsies with our feet to the fire . In the meanwhile , King was gone with the cart , I know not where , to get a change of horses , and it was late in the dark morning when he returned and we were able to resume our journey . In the middle of another night , we came to a stop by an ancient , whitewashed cottage of two stories ; a privet hedge surrounded it ; the frosty moon shone blankly on the upper windows ; but through those of the kitchen the firelight was seen glinting on the roof and reflected from the dishes on the wall . Here , after much hammering on the door , King managed to arouse an old crone from the chimney-corner chair , where she had been dozing in the watch ; and we were had in , and entertained with a dish of hot tea .