midnight
Ledesma 's son , a lad of eight , sat big-eyed and solemn near an open window , not fully understanding the blow that had fallen but vaguely frightened by his mother 's lamentations . The Tagalog , dignified in his suffering , answered Terry 's brief interrogations intelligently but as he had been out on the gulf with his fishermen during the raid he had little to offer . Terry turned to the sobbing mother and in a few minutes she had quieted sufficiently to tell her story . He grew paler and grimmer as she dramatized the terror of the midnight entrance of the ominous shadows , the noiseless gliding of bare feet , the vicious whispered threats , the cries of the girl as they bore her away into the night and the long wait for Ledesma 's return . Finishing her story , she sank back upon the great bed , moaning and muttering incoherently . Ledesma elaborated her story with details she had told him . She had recognized neither shadowed forms nor whispering voices of any of the four who had entered the house while the others herded the stolen carabaos toward the waterfront .