midnight
So strange a sound was it that the gentle breeze ceased to murmur , the tiny pebbles to roll down the steep incline ! So strange , that Marguerite , wearied , overwrought as she was , thought that the beneficial unconsciousness of the approach of death was playing her half-sleeping senses a weird and elusive trick . It was the sound of a good , solid , absolutely British `` Damn ! '' The sea-gulls in their nests awoke and looked round in astonishment ; a distant and solitary owl set up a midnight hoot , the tall cliffs frowned down majestically at the strange , unheard-of sacrilege . Marguerite did not trust her ears . Half-raising herself on her hands , she strained every sense to see or hear , to know the meaning of this very earthly sound . All was still again for the space of a few seconds ; the same silence once more fell upon the great and lonely vastness .