midnight
The voice of the wind filled the night . It whistled and shrieked in minor keys , dying away at brief intervals to come again with a rush and roar . It penetrated him to the bone , for he had compelled her to wrap herself in his overcoat , and when the first stinging grains of fiercely driven sleet pelted his cheek , he smothered a cry of dismay over her exposed situation . It could not be far past midnight . The prospect of a snow-storm in the bleak lands of the Kiowa appalled him , but even while facing that possibility his mind was busy with Lahoma 's attitude toward himself . Evidently it had never occurred to her that Annabel had vanished from his fancy years ago ; now that she knew , she was displeased -- most unreasonably so , he thought . Lahoma did not approve of Annabel -- why should she want him to remain passively under her yoke ?