midnight
`` And Heaven forfend that another such ride falls my lot . '' He smiled at the ruddy heap in the fireplace . What a ride , indeed ! For nearly two weeks he had ridden over hills and mountains , through valleys and gorges , access deep and shallow streams , sometimes beneath the sun , sometimes beneath the moon or the stars , sometimes beneath the flying black canopies of midnight storms , always and ever toward Paris . He had been harried by straggling Spaniards ; he had drawn his sword three times in unavoidable tavern brawls ; he had been robbed of his purse ; he had even pawned his signet-ring for a night 's lodging : all because Mazarin had asked a question which only the pope could answer . Paris at last ! -- Paris the fanciful , the illogical , the changeable , the wholly delightful Paris !