midnight
He and Paul had eaten hugely , there was no escape , and he felt that he must sit quiet for a while . He was loth to talk of himself , but there was no escape from that either , and his story was so vivid , so full that it fairly told itself . As he spoke of the great journey and its myriad events between New Orleans and the Great Lakes , the crowd in the big room thickened . No one was willing to lose a word of the magic tale , and it was past midnight when he lay down on the blankets and sought sleep . The next day and the next were passed in further welcome , but when Henry sought the blankets the third night he became conscious that the first flush of the return was over . The weather had turned very hot -- it was now July -- and the walls and ceiling of the room seemed to press upon him and suffocate him . He drew deep and long breaths , but there was not air enough to fill a chest that had long been used to the illimitable outside .