into our beautiful Cathedral. All! only to see it again, to be within
its shelter, cool and calm as in our mother's arms! It seemed to us that
we should wish for nothing more.

When the sound ceased we looked into each other's faces, and each man
saw that his neighbour was pale. Hope died in us when the sound died
away, vibrating sadly through the air. Some men threw themselves on the
ground in their despair.

And from this time forward many voices were heard, calls and shouts
within the walls, and sometimes a sound like a trumpet, and other
instruments of music. We thought, indeed, that noises as of bands
patrolling along the ramparts were audible as our patrols worked their
way round and round. This was a duty which I never allowed to be
neglected, not because I put very much faith in it, but because it gave
us a sort of employment. There is a story somewhere which I recollect
dimly of an ancient city which its assailants did not touch, but only
marched round and round till the walls fell, and they could enter.
Whether this was a story of classic times or out of our own remote
history, I could not recollect. But I thought of it many times while we
made our way like a procession of ghosts, round and round, straining our
ears to hear what those voices were which sounded above us, in tones
that were familiar, yet so strange. This story got so much into my head
(and after a time all our heads seemed to get confused and full of wild
and bewildering expedients) that I found myself suggesting--I, a man
known for sense and reason--that we should blow trumpets at some time to
be fixed, which was a thing the ancients had done in the strange tale
which had taken possession of me. M. le Curé looked at me with
disapproval. He said, 'I did not expect from M. le Maire anything that
was disrespectful to religion.' Heaven forbid that I should be