midnight
I sat a little while beside his bed ; his hands lay upon the coverlid ; I touched them , they were ice-cold . I was frightened , touched his brow , his face -- he was dead ! he had died without a death-struggle ! '' For a long time did they converse about the dead man ; it was near midnight when Otto ascended the narrow stairs which led to the little chamber in the roof , where as child and boy he had slept . All stood here as it had done the year before , only in nicer order . Upon the wall hung the black painted target , near to the centre of which he had once shot . His skates lay upon the chest of drawers , near to the nodding plaster figure .