midnight
Seeing the rough bedsteads by the wall of the attic , I touched Rischenheim on the shoulder and pointed to one of them . Together we lifted Rupert of Hentzau . The revolver was still in his hand , but Bernenstein disengaged it from his grasp . Then Rischenheim and I laid him down , disposing his body decently and spreading over it his riding cloak , still spotted with the mud gathered on his midnight expedition to the hunting-lodge . His face looked much as before the shot was fired ; in death , as in life , he was the handsomest fellow in all Ruritania . I wager that many tender hearts ached and many bright eyes were dimmed for him when the news of his guilt and death went forth . There are ladies still in Strelsau who wear his trinkets in an ashamed devotion that can not forget .