midnight
`` Misericorde ! '' whispered Denys . `` Ay , more , '' said Gerard , lowering his voice almost to a whisper ; `` celestial sounds have issued from the purlieus of that very crypt you turned into a tavern . Voices of the dead holding unearthly communion have chilled the ear of midnight , and at times , Denys , the faithful in their nightly watches have even heard music from dead lips ; and chords , made by no mortal finger , swept by no mortal hand , have rung faintly , like echoes , deep among the dead in those sacred vaults . '' Denys wore a look of dismay . `` Ugh ! if I had known , mules and wain-ropes had not hauled me thither ; and so '' -LRB- with a sigh -RRB- `` I had lost a merry time . ''