And athwart that void, when the dull tramp of the little army had died away, they only heard two bells, the one clear toned and ringing doubtless at their feet, in some village across the road; and the other far-off and faint, responding, as it were, with distant sobs to the feverish plaints of the first.

One might have thought that these bells were recounting to each other, through the empty waste, the sinister story of a perishing world.
Miette and Silvere, warmed by their quick march, did not at first feel the cold.

They remained silent, listening in great dejection to the sounds of the tocsin, which made the darkness quiver.

They could not even see one another.

Miette felt frightened, and, seeking for Silvere's hand, clasped it in her own.