the hour of eleven
Then , at intervals , he grouped the dancers , youths , and pretty girls , carefully dressed in the costumes of different provinces , making a bouquet of bright colours in the light of a few concealed lamps which supplemented the silver radiance of the moon , now almost at the zenith . The minutes passed . The dancers talked in subdued tones which scarcely disturbed the nightingales . A breeze rustled the crisp leaves of the orange trees and myrtle hedges ; far away the voice of the watchman told the hour of eleven , echoed by the chiming bells of a church clock ; and the last stroke had not sounded when there was a burst of merry voices in a distant avenue . Carmona and his friends had come -- late , of course -- or there could have been no Andalucíans among them ; and suddenly , as if on a signal , the gardens pulsed with rose-coloured light . In the pink blaze I saw Monica , slender and fair as a lily , in a white dress sparkling with silver ; but I had only time to see that she walked beside Carmona , when the rose flame died down and left the garden pure and peaceful under the moon . For an instant the soft light seemed darkness , and I lost the white figure .