midnight
There was no wind . The atmosphere seemed never so pure , and the stillness was more than silence ; it was a holy hush , a warning that heaven was stooping low to whisper some good thing to the listening earth . By the gate , hugging his mantle close , the watchman walked ; at times he stopped , attracted by a stir among the sleeping herds , or by a jackal 's cry off on the mountain-side . The midnight was slow coming to him ; but at last it came . His task was done ; now for the dreamless sleep with which labor blesses its wearied children ! He moved towards the fire , but paused ; a light was breaking around him , soft and white , like the moon 's . He waited breathlessly .