one o'clock
Was it true , the terrible injustice of Laura 's words , that because of me -- not alone the story I had told , but my looks , my misery , my very pity for him -- he had been convicted ? I was recalled to my surroundings by the rocking of the carriage . Great rains , which had fallen lately , had left the roads gullied , and rough as the sea . The moon would not rise until after one o'clock , and what made our progress really dangerous , something had gone wrong with the carriage lights . They dwindled and went out when we were but a block on our way , and no scratching of matches would make them stay lighted for a minute . At the foot of the hill the driver brought the horses to a halt , and informed me that the road ahead looked impassable . I peered out of the window .