midnight
Managers were a fleeting race in the Kursaal Promontonio . The Count was a kind master . But he was a Russian , and a taskmaster like those of Egypt , in that he expected his managers to make the bricks of dividends without the straw of visitors . With him I covenanted to be roused at midnight . Herr Gutwein was somewhat unwilling . He had not so many visitors that he could afford to expend one on the cliffs of the Piz Langrev . I looked out on the lake and the mountains from the window of my room before I turned in .