midnight before
Here and there a window was already lighted up ; and the noise of men-at-arms making merry over supper within , came forth in fits and was swallowed up and carried away by the wind . The night fell swiftly ; the flag of England , fluttering on the spire-top , grew ever fainter and fainter against the flying clouds -- a black speck like a swallow in the tumultuous , leaden chaos of the sky . As the night fell the wind rose , and began to hoot under archways and roar amid the tree-tops in the valley below the town . Denis de Beaulieu walked fast and was soon knocking at his friend 's door ; but though he promised himself to stay only a little while and make an early return , his welcome was so pleasant , and he found so much to delay him , that it was already long past midnight before he said good-bye upon the threshold . The wind had fallen again in the meanwhile ; the night was as black as the grave ; not a star , nor a glimmer of moonshine , slipped through the canopy of cloud . Denis was ill-acquainted with the intricate lanes of Chateau Landon ; even by daylight he had found some trouble in picking his way ; and in this absolute darkness he soon lost it altogether . He was certain of one thing only -- to keep mounting the hill ; for his friend 's house lay at the lower end , or tail , of Chateau Landon , while the inn was up at the head , under the great church spire .