"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.