Perhaps a cloud was passing between earth and moon, for Roland fancied that the shadows deepened.

Then, as midnight approached, he seemed to hear a thousand confused, imperceptible sounds, coming no doubt from the nocturnal universe which wakes while the other sleeps.

Nature permits no suspension of life, even for repose.

She created her nocturnal world, even as she created her daily world, from the gnat which buzzes about the sleeper's pillow to the lion prowling around the Arab's bivouac.
But Roland, the camp watcher, the sentinel of the desert, Roland, the hunter, the soldier, knew all those sounds; they were powerless to disturb him.
Then, mingling with these sounds, the tones of the clock, chiming the hour, vibrated above his head.

This time it was midnight.