The old bell of the Beffroi tolled the hour of six.

Soon the massive cupola of Notre Dame was clothed in purple hues, and the gilt cross on St.Joseph threw back across the square a blinding ray of gold.
The town sparrows began to twitter, and from far out at sea in the direction of Dunkirk there came the muffled boom of cannon.
"And remember, my pigeons," admonished Auguste Moleux solemnly, "that in this order which Robespierre has sent from Paris, it also says that from to-day onwards le bon Dieu has ceased to be!" Many faces were turned towards the East just then, for the rising sun, tearing with one gigantic sweep the banks of cloud asunder, now displayed his magnificence in a gorgeous immensity of flaming crimson.
The sea, in response, turned to liquid fire beneath the glow, whilst the whole sky was irradiated with the first blush of morning.
Le bon Dieu has ceased to be! "There is only one religion in France now," explained Auguste Moleux, "the religion of Reason! We are all citizens! We are all free and all able to think for ourselves.

Citizen Robespierre has decreed that there is no good God.

Le bon Dieu was a tyrant and an aristocrat, and, like all tyrants and aristocrats, He has been deposed.

There is no good God, there is no Holy Virgin and no Saints, only Reason, who is a goddess and whom we all honour." And the townsfolk of Boulogne, with eyes still fixed on the gorgeous East, shouted with sullen obedience: "Hurrah! for the Goddess of Reason!" "Hurrah for Robespierre!" Only the women, trying to escape the town-crier's prying eyes, or the soldiers' stern gaze, hastily crossed themselves behind their husbands' backs, terrified lest le bon Dieu had, after all, not altogether ceased to exist at the bidding of Citizen Robespierre.
Thus the worthy natives of Boulogne, forgetting their anxieties and fears, were ready enough to enjoy the national fete ordained for them by the Committee of Public Safety, in honour of the capture of the Scarlet Pimpernel.