midnight
There was , however , no answering roll of thunder , and the silence of the atmosphere seemed almost awful . For a couple of hours , in the vain hope of catching a breath of air , Miss Herbey , Andre Letourneur , and I , sat watching the imposing struggle of the electric vapors . The clouds appeared like embattled turrets crested with flame , and the very sailors , coarse-minded men as they were , seemed struck with the grandeur of the spectacle , and regarded attentively , though with an anxious eye , the preliminary tokens of a coming storm . Until midnight we kept our seats upon the stern of the raft , while the lightning ever and again shed around us a livid glare similar to that produced by adding salt to lighted alcohol . `` Are you afraid of a storm . Miss Herbey ? '' said Andre to the girl .