about eight o'clock
the white tombstone has letters of fire written on it , and the white flowers are changed to drops of blood , and the two black figures have hurried away and disappeared . How the wind tears down this wide valley , in which there is no sign of life . It is so sad to be left alone . Well , it was about eight o'clock when he was awakened by the entrance of Waters . He jumped up , and looked around , haggard and bewildered . Then his first thought was , `` A few more nights like this , and Zaccatelli will have little to fear . '' He had his bath and breakfast ; all the time he was forcing himself into an indignant self-contempt .