midnight
Was Sylvester intoxicated , or had the mysterious stranger mixed the `` insane verb '' with the family pottage ? He returned before I could answer this self-asked inquiry , and resumed coolly his broken narrative . Finding myself forgotten in the man I had so long hesitated to introduce to my friends , I retired to rest early , only to hear , through the thin partitions , two hours later , enthusiastic praises of the new guest from the voluble lips of the girls , as they chatted in the next room before retiring . At midnight I was startled by the sound of horses ' hoofs and the jingling of spurs below . A conversation between my host and some mysterious personage in the darkness was carried on in such a low tone that I could not learn its import . As the cavalcade rode away I raised the window . `` What 's the matter ? ''