five o’clock in the morning
It is all for the best . That new suffering created within me a fortunate diversion -- to speak in military style . To weep is healthy , and then , no doubt , if I had not ridden as I did and had not been obliged to walk fifteen versts on my way back , sleep would not have closed my eyes on that night either . I returned to Kislovodsk at five o'clock in the morning , threw myself on my bed , and slept the sleep of Napoleon after Waterloo . By the time I awoke it was dark outside . I sat by the open window , with my jacket unbuttoned -- and the mountain breeze cooled my breast , still troubled by the heavy sleep of weariness . In the distance beyond the river , through the tops of the thick lime trees which overshadowed it , lights were glancing in the fortress and the village .