It was dark when, parting with the drover inside the gate, Ben-Hur turned into a narrow lane leading to the south.

A few of the people whom he met saluted him.

The bouldering of the pavement was rough.

The houses on both sides were low, dark, and cheerless; the doors all closed: from the roofs, occasionally, he heard women crooning to children.

The loneliness of his situation, the night, the uncertainty cloaking the object of his coming, all affected him cheerlessly.