midnight
In one of the poorer quarters of St. Petersburg there is a street on a back canal , and over the street an arch . To the right of the arch is a flight of steps , ancient and worm-eaten , difficult of climbing by day by reason of a hole here , a worn place there , and the perilous tilting of the boards ; at night well nigh impassable without a lantern . The steps wind and end in a tenement , once a palace , spanning the water . It was midnight . A cloud had come over the moon , light and fleecy at first , but gradually growing blacker and spreading until finally it hung like a huge drop-curtain screening the stars . The street lay in darkness . From a window in the top of the arch a single light was visible , pale and flickering as the ray from a candle ; otherwise the grey bulk of the building seemed lost in the shadows , lifeless and silent .