midnight
Then recollection flashed upon me , and I sprang up alarmed to my feet , only to discover with inexpressible relief that the light I had remarked was in the west , not the east , and proceeded from the young moon just sinking beneath the horizon . Saddling my two animals expeditiously , I rode to Peralta 's _ estancia _ , and on arriving there carefully drew the horses into the shadow of a clump of trees growing on the borders of the ancient , wellnigh obliterated foss or ditch . I then dropped on to the ground so as to listen better for approaching footsteps , and began waiting for Demetria . It was past midnight : not a sound reached me except at intervals the mournful , far-away , reedy note of the little nocturnal cicada that always seemed to be there lamenting the lost fortunes of the house of Peralta . For upwards of half an hour I remained lying on the ground , growing more anxious every moment and fearing that Demetria was going to fail me , when I caught a sound like a human whisper . Listening intently , I found that it pronounced my name and proceeded from a clump of tall thorn-apples some yards from me . `` Who speaks ? ''