nearly midnight
That night , while the mullah glowered over the camp like a great old owl , with leaping firelight reflected in his eyes , the thousands under the skin tents argued , so that the night was all noise . But King slept . All of another day and part of another night he toiled among the sick , wondering when a message would come back . It was nearly midnight when he bandaged his last patient and came out into the starlight to bend his back straight and yawn and pick his way reeling with weariness back to the mullah 's cave . He had given his bag of medicines and implements to a man to carry ahead of him and had gone perhaps ten paces into the dark when a strong hand gripped him by the wrist . `` Hush ! '' said a voice that seemed familiar .