nine o'clock
The long day came to an end . The darkness settled down over sandy plain and distant mountain . The silence of midnight reigned over the lonely bivouac and the somber ranch , yet had not Blake given orders that every man must remain close to the horses throughout the evening , adventurous spirits from the troop could surely have heard the ominous whisperings within the corral and marked the stealthy glidings to and fro . At nine o'clock the famous roan was cautiously led forth from the gateway and close under the black shadow of the wall , and not until well beyond earshot of the willows was he mounted and headed eastward . At ten Loring was sleeping soundly in preparation for the night ride before him , and Blake , nervously puffing at his pipe , was listening to the low , murmurous chat where the guard were gathered about their watchfires , when soft , timid , luring , sweet , again he heard the tinkle of that guitar . It ceased abruptly . There was a minute of silence , then , a trifle louder , it began again ; again ceased as though waiting reply , and Blake sat up and listened .