half past seven
Ringfield , thus imprisoned , passed for his part a miserable night ; he dared not move and his excited brain kept him from sleeping . Towards four o'clock the lantern flickered out ; at six , while it was yet dark , the priest arose and went his way , and an hour later Ringfield also retraced his steps to the village . Like a man in an exceedingly unpleasant , but most distinct dream , he found himself bound in a net of intrigue from which there seemed no chance of escape . It was Sunday morning and at eleven he would have to take charge of the service and address the usual congregation as Father Rielle had already partly done , the early mass at St. Jean Baptiste-on-the-Hill being held at half past seven . The road between the grim leafless trees was now swept clean of both snow and hail by the streams of heavy rain which had poured the previous night , and the air was mild . Much havoc had been wrought in places by the furious storm ; the rocky ground was littered with branches and twigs of all sizes ; rivers of yellow mud ran where the clay road should be , and against this desolation there glowed occasional plants of bright green , low along the ground , that had escaped the winter 's rages of a high level . Crows were silhouetted against the pale blue sky laced with streamers of white , and spring seemed to be in the air rather than late autumn ; the excited birds called to each other as they flew high over the forest , as if to hail this pleasant morning , a contrast to the stormy night .