Before too I could count as many more, or ask him what
this meant, before indeed, we could speak or stir from the spot,
or think what we should do, with a hurried clang and clash, as if
brought into motion by furious frenzied hands, a great bell just
above our heads began to boom and whirr! It hurled its notes
into space, it suddenly filled all the silence. It dashed its
harsh sounds down upon the trembling city, till the air heaved,
and the houses about us rocked. It made in an instant a
pandemonium of the quiet night.
We turned and hurried instinctively from the place, crouching and
amazed, looking upwards with bent shoulders and scared faces.
"What is it? What is it?" I cried, half in resentment; half in
terror. It deafened me.
"The bell of St. Germain l'Auxerrois!" he shouted in answer.
"The Church of the Louvre. It is as I said. We are doomed!"
"Doomed? No!" I replied fiercely, for my courage seemed to rise
again on the wave of sound and excitement as if rebounding from
the momentary shock.
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