The gentlemen no longer jeered at Roudier; particularly
as the marquis, who took a malicious delight in terrifying them, was
kind enough to explain the cause of all this bell-ringing.
"It is the neighbouring villages," he said to Rougon, "banding together
to attack Plassans at daybreak."
At this Granoux opened his eyes wide. "Didn't you see something just
this moment over there?" he asked all of a sudden.
Nobody had looked; the gentlemen had been keeping their eyes closed in
order to hear the better.
"Ah! look!" he resumed after a short pause. "There, beyond the Viorne,
near that black mass."
"Yes, I see," replied Rougon, in despair; "it's a fire they're kindling."
A moment later another fire appeared almost immediately in front of
the first one, then a third, and a fourth. In this wise red splotches
appeared at nearly equal distances throughout the whole length of the
valley, resembling the lamps of some gigantic avenue. The moonlight,
which dimmed their radiance, made them look like pools of blood. This
melancholy illumination gave a finishing touch to the consternation of
the Municipal Commission.
"Of course!" the marquis muttered, with his bitterest sneer, "those
brigands are signalling to each other." And he counted the fires
complacently, to get some idea, he said, as to how many men "the brave
national guard of Plassans" would have to deal with. Rougon endeavoured
to raise doubts by saying the villages were taking up arms in order to
join the army of the insurgents, and not for the purpose of attacking
the town.
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