Midnight
Had he met Leonora now in the middle of the road he would have recoiled in childish terror ; but he would not meet her at such an hour . That reflection gave him strength to walk on . Behind him , over the roofs of the city , the tolling of a clock rolled . Midnight ! He would go as far as the wall of her orchard , enter if that were possible , stand there a few moments in silent humility before the house , looking up adoringly at the windows behind which Leonora lay sleeping . It would be his farewell ! The whim had occurred to him as he left the city and saw the first orange-trees laden with the blossoms whose perfume had for many months been holding the songstress there in patient expectation .