midnight
Yet he strove to think of Basil , and , in doing so , knew that he still loved him . For Basil he would do anything , suffer anything , lose anything ; but when he imaged Basil with Veranilda , at once his love turned to spleen , a sullen madness possessed him , he hated his friend to the death . By his own order , two watchmen stood below the stairs which led to Veranilda 's chamber . Nigh upon midnight he walked in that direction , walked in barefooted stealth , listening for a movement , a voice . Nearer and nearer he approached , till he saw at length the ray of a lantern ; but no step , no murmur , told of wakeful guard . Trembling as though with cold , though sweat streamed over his body , he strode forward ; there , propped against the wall , sat the two slaves fast asleep . Marcian glanced at the stairs ; his face in the dim lantern light was that of a devil .