midnight
` I will sing . In Andalusia we can all sing . The pigs sing better there than the men of Castile . ' It was after midnight when the party rode past the Church of the Cristo de la Vega , and faced the long hill that leads to the gate Del Cambron . Above them towered the city of Toledo -- silent and dreamlike . Concepçion had ceased singing now , and the hard breathing of the horses alone broke the silence . The Tagus , emerging here from rocky fastness , flowed noiselessly away to the west -- a gleaming ribbon laid across the breast of the night .