midnight
ye of little faith ? ' '' Erica hid her face , ashamed under the good man 's smile . `` In our towns , '' continued he , `` much of this blessed change is already wrought . No one in my city of Tronyem now fears the angry and cunning fire-giant Loke ; but every citizen closes his eyes in peace when he hears the midnight cry of the watch , ` Except the Lord keep the city , the watchman waketh but in vain . ' -LSB- The watchman 's call in the towns of Norway . -RSB- In the wilds of the country every man 's faith will hereafter be his watchman , crying out upon all that happens , ` It is the Lord 's hand : let Him do what seemeth to Him good ! ' This might have been said , Erica , as it appears to me , at every turn of your story , where you and your friends were not in fault . ''