midnight
answered Frank . `` Come in here , and lull me to sleep with a sea-song . '' So Amyas went in , and found Frank laid on the outside of his bed not yet undrest . `` I am a bad sleeper , '' said he ; `` I spend more time , I fear , in burning the midnight oil than prudent men should . Come and be my jongleur , my minnesinger , and tell me about Andes , and cannibals , and the ice-regions , and the fire-regions , and the paradises of the West . '' So Amyas sat down , and told : but somehow , every story which he tried to tell came round , by crooked paths , yet sure , to none other point than Rose Salterne , and how he thought of her here and thought of her there , and how he wondered what she would say if she had seen him in this adventure , and how he longed to have had her with him to show her that glorious sight , till Frank let him have his own way , and then out came the whole story of the simple fellow 's daily and hourly devotion to her , through those three long years of world-wide wanderings . `` And oh , Frank , I could hardly think of anything but her in the church the other day , God forgive me !