midnight
Their progress was slow , for the oak furniture was heavy and the roads were rough , leading across the moor and down steep hills into valleys , with equally steep hills on the other side . The sky was covered with a thin mist drifting slowly before the wind , and when the moon shone through it , about two o'clock in the morning , it was the waning-moon looking sad and forlorn amid the floating vapor . The houses they passed were few and far between , showing no light or sign of life . All the land lay around them dark and desolate under the midnight sky ; and the slow creaking of the wheels and sluggish hoof-beats of the horse dragging the wagon were the only sounds that broke the stillness . In this gloom old Marlowe could hold no conversation either with Phebe or Roland Sefton , but from time to time they could hear him sob aloud as he trudged on in his speechless isolation . It was a sad sound , which pierced them to the heart . From time to time Roland Sefton walked up the long hills beside Phebe 's pony , pouring out his whole heart to her .