about midnight
` She sleeps , ' he murmured in a voice of awe , as he resumed his watching position by the side of the couch . ` They call death a sleep ; but on her face there is no death ! ' The night grew on . The women who were in attendance entered the room about midnight , wondering that their assistance had not yet been required . They beheld the solemn , unruffled composure on the girl 's wasted face ; the rapt attention of Numerian , as he ever preserved the same attitude by her side ; and went out again softly without uttering a word , even in a whisper . There was something dread and impressive in the very appearance of this room , where Death , that destroys , was in mortal conflict with Youth and Beauty , that adorn , while the eyes of one old man watched in loneliness the awful progress of the strife . Morning came , and still there was no change .