midnight
They ate their supper on the way . With three Sardinian donkeys , strong and patient little brutes , with lanterns and shovels and sacks , the two fared into the pines . Aïtone was all familiar ground to the Corsican who , in younger days , had taken his illegal tithe from these hills . They found the range soon enough , but made a dozen mistakes in measurements ; and it was long toward midnight , when the oil of the lanterns ran low , that their shovels bore down into the precious pocket . The earth flew . They worked like madmen , with nervous energy and power of will ; and when the chest finally came into sight , rotten with age and the soak of earth , they fell back against a tree , on the verge of collapse . The hair was damp on their foreheads , their breath came harshly , almost in sobs .