midnight
it seems rather to gratify than annoy her . '' Here a strain of music stole in upon my monologue , and suspended it ; it was a bugle , very skilfully played , in the neighbourhood of the park , I thought , or on the Place Royale . So sweet were the tones , so subduing their effect at that hour , in the midst of silence and under the quiet reign of moonlight , I ceased to think , that I might listen more intently . The strain retreated , its sound waxed fainter and was soon gone ; my ear prepared to repose on the absolute hush of midnight once more . No . What murmur was that which , low , and yet near and approaching nearer , frustrated the expectation of total silence ? It was some one conversing -- yes , evidently , an audible , though subdued voice spoke in the garden immediately below me .