When the growing light had at last dispersed these phantoms, the morning broke so pale, so mournful, so melancholy, that even the marquis's spirits sank.

Not a single insurgent was to be seen, and the high roads were free; but the grey valley wore a gruesomely sad and deserted aspect.

The fires had now gone out, but the bells still rang on.

Towards eight o'clock, Rougon observed a small party of men who were moving off along the Viorne.
By this time the gentlemen were half dead with cold and fatigue.

Seeing no immediate danger, they determined to take a few hours' rest.