midnight
I was only half-sensible , I expect . Sometimes I thought we were alive , and another time that the three of us were dead and going to be buried . What makes it worse I 've seen that sight so often since -- the fight on the plain and the end of it all . Just like a picture it comes back to me over and over again , sometimes in broad day , as I sit in my cell , in the darkest midnight , in the early dawn . It rises before my eyes -- the bare plain , and the dead men lying where they fell ; Sir Ferdinand on his horse , with the troopers standing round ; and the half-caste sitting with Starlight 's head in his lap , rocking himself to and fro , and crying and moaning like a woman that 's lost her child . I can see Jim , too -- lying on his face with his hat rolled off and both arms spread out wide . He never moved after .