one o'clock
said the red-faced man , swinging across the yard with his pails . Madelon Hautville walked on steadily . She reached the right-hand turn , and then she was on the direct Kingston road , with a ten-mile stretch before her . It was past one o'clock , and she could not reach her journey 's end much before dark . About two miles after the turn of the road the more thickly set habitations ceased , and there were only isolated farm-houses , with long , sloping reaches of woods and pasture-lands between . The pasture-lands were hummocked with ice-coated rocks and hooped with frozen vines ; they seemed to flow down in glittering waves , like glaciers , over the hill-sides . The woods stood white and petrified , as woods might have done in a glacial era .