midnight
Lynette sat up , sobbing for joy , and blindly holding out her arms , and the rising sun looked over the mountains eastward , and drew one hushing , golden finger over the lips of the cold , grey , whispering sea . A thin , subterraneous screech , accompanied by a whiff of cinder-flavoured steam , heralded the Down Express as it plunged out of the cliff-tunnel , flashed across an intervening space , and was lost among the chestnuts and larches . A metallic rattle and scroop told that the official in the box on the other side of the Castle bluff had opened the points . And hearing the clanking bustle of the train 's arrival in the station , Lynette reminded herself with a sigh of relief that her maid was packing , that she would presently make her excuses to Major Wrynche and Lady Hannah , and that the midnight up-mail should take her home to Owen . Her course lay clear now , pointed out by the beloved , lost hand . But for this Heaven-sent light that had been cast upon her way , Lynette knew that she might have wandered on in doubt and darkness to the very end . She was not of the race of hero-women , who deserve the most of men , and are doomed to receive in grudging measure .