by his name. To me it was not wonderful that this impression should
come, but afterwards it was elicited from all that this was the feeling
of each. Though no words were said, it was as the calling of our names.
We all waited in such a supreme agitation as I cannot describe for some
communication that was to come.

When suddenly, in a moment, the trumpet ceased; there was an interval of
dead and terrible silence; then, each with a leap of his heart as if it
would burst from his bosom, we saw a single figure slowly detach itself
out of the gloom. 'My God!' I cried. My senses went from me; I felt my
head go round like a straw tossed on the winds.

To know them so near, those mysterious visitors--to feel them, to hear
them, was not that enough? But, to see! who could bear it? Our voices
rang like broken chords, like a tearing and rending of sound. Some
covered their faces with their hands; for our very eyes seemed to be
drawn out of their sockets, fluttering like things with a separate life.

Then there fell upon us a strange and wonderful calm. The figure
advanced slowly; there was weakness in it. The step, though solemn, was
feeble; and if you can figure to yourself our consternation, the pause,
the cry--our hearts dropping back as it might be into their places--the
sudden stop of the wild panting in our breasts: when there became
visible to us a human face well known, a man as we were. 'Lecamus!' I
cried; and all the men round took it up, crowding nearer, trembling yet
delivered from their terror; some even laughed in the relief. There was
but one who had an air of discontent, and that was M. le Curé. As he
said 'Lecamus!' like the rest, there was impatience, disappointment,
anger in his tone.