midnight
`` Harlot , '' he shrieked , `` harlot ! '' A cold gust of wind swept through the room . The windows shook , the doors flew open , as if touched by a strong invisible hand -- and the old man stood alone , holding the flickering brand above his head . It was after midnight , the wind had abated , but the snow still fell , thick and silent , burying paths and fences under its cold white mantle . Onward she fled -- onward and ever onward . And whither , she knew not . A cold numbness had chilled her senses , but still her feet drove her irresistibly onward .