midnight
Therefore it was war between him and them , war to the bitter end , war with no humane mitigation of its horrors and penalties , the last dread arbitrament of man forced to adopt the methods of the tiger . His guess at the weather conditions heralded by the change of wind was right . As the two partook of their evening meal the complaining surf lashed the reef , and the tremulous branches of the taller trees voiced the approach of a gale . A tropical storm , not a typhoon , but a belated burst of the periodic rains , deluged the island before midnight . Hours earlier Iris retired , utterly worn by the events of the day . Needless to say , there was no singing that evening . The gale chanted a wild melody in mournful chords , and the noise of the watery downpour on the tarpaulin roof of Belle Vue Castle was such as to render conversation impossible , save in wearying shouts .