midnight
I cried , `` my father is gone , for ever gone , and I am cursed with the curse of my people . '' Was it fancy ? Was it the voice of man or the voice of God that I heard in answer to my despairing cry ? Fancy it could not be , for it was past midnight and I stood alone on the great headland . Surely God spoke to me , for there , alone in the silence , I heard my father 's last words repeated . How they came I know not , but this I know , in tones sweeter than thought can fancy came the glorious message , `` There is no curse , God is love . '' After that I was able to think and connect , link by link , the events of the evening .