about seven o'clock
The rain stretched obliquely through the dull atmosphere in liquid spines , unbroken in continuity between their beginnings in the clouds and their points in him . Oak suddenly remembered that eight months before this time he had been fighting against fire in the same spot as desperately as he was fighting against water now -- and for a futile love of the same woman . As for her -- But Oak was generous and true , and dismissed his reflections . It was about seven o'clock in the dark leaden morning when Gabriel came down from the last stack , and thankfully exclaimed , `` It is done ! '' He was drenched , weary , and sad , and yet not so sad as drenched and weary , for he was cheered by a sense of success in a good cause . Faint sounds came from the barn , and he looked that way . Figures stepped singly and in pairs through the doors -- all walking awkwardly , and abashed , save the foremost , who wore a red jacket , and advanced with his hands in his pockets , whistling .