nearly midnight
All that remained in my memory would be an indecisive outline , seized in flight from between the steam puffs of our engine . And why are these houses always in a state of defence ? Because Elisabethpol is a fortified town exposed to the frequent attacks of the Lesghians of Chirvan , and these mountaineers , according to the best-informed historians , are directly descended from Attila 's hordes . It was nearly midnight . Weariness invited me to sleep , and yet , like a good reporter , I must sleep with one eye and one ear open . I fall into that sort of slumber provoked by the regular trepidations of a train on the road , mingled with ear-splitting whistles and the grind of the brakes as the speed is slowed , and tumultuous roars as passing trains are met with , besides the names of the stations shouted out during the short stoppages , and the banging of the doors which are opened or shut with metallic sonority . In this way I heard the shouts of Geran , Varvara , Oudjarry , Kiourdamir , Klourdane , then Karasoul , Navagi .