about midnight
As the sun went down , the Abbot and his companion , wishing me good-night , retired to rest . On approaching the window , I observed another monk sauntering from the burial-ground , where , with his hands , in conformity to their daily custom , he had been scooping out his final resting-place . Never have I been so conscious of intense loneliness and solitude ! It was now about midnight , and the moon was shining brightly on the Abbey lake . Not a leaf was stirring , and all things as still as death , while the clear evening star shone cold and motionless over the dark edge of the forest , towering black and gloomy in the silent distance . I was as `` the last man . '' Not a soul was breathing nearer to me than the poor old monks , who , hours ago , had crept to their dormitory in the farthest cloister of the Abbey .