‘You hear it, Jules?’ she whispered thickly. ‘The _joran_ has brought them down. You’ll be needed in the village.’ She said it anxiously, though Hendricks understood the _patois_ with difficulty. They talked excitedly together a moment in the doorway, their outlines blocked against the corridor where a single oil lamp flickered. She warned, urging something; he expostulated. Fragments reached Hendricks in his corner. Clearly the woman worshipped her husband like a king, yet feared for his safety. He, for his part, comforted her, scolded a little, argued, told her to ‘believe in God and go back to bed.’ ‘They’ll take you too, and you’ll never return. It’s not your parish anyhow ...’ a touch of anguish in her tone. But Leysin was impatient to be off. He led her down the passage. ‘My parish is wherever I can help. I belong to God. Nothing can harm me but to leave undone the work He gives me.’ The steps went farther away as he guided her to the stairs. Outside the roar of voices rose and fell. Wind brought the drifting sound, wind carried it away. It was like the thunder of the sea. And the Englishman, using the little scene as a flashlight upon his own attitude, saw it for an instant as God might have seen it. Leysin’s point of view was high, scanning a very wide horizon. His eye being single, the whole body was full of light. The risk, it suddenly seemed, was--nothing; to shirk it, indeed, the merest cowardice. He went up and seized the Pasteur’s hand. ‘To-morrow,’ he said, a trifle shakily perhaps, yet looking straight into his eyes. ‘If we stay over--I’ll bring the lad with me--provided he comes willingly.’ ‘You will stay over,’ interrupted the other with decision. ‘Come to supper at seven. Come in mountain boots. Use persuasion, but not force. He shall see it from a distance--without taking part.’ ‘From a distance--yes,’ the tutor repeated, ‘but without taking part.’ ‘I know the signs,’ the Pasteur broke in significantly. ‘We can rescue him in the nick of time--charged with energy and life, yet before the danger gets----’ A sudden clangour of bells drowned the whispering voice, cutting the sentence in the middle. It was like an alarm of fire. Leysin sprang sharply round. ‘The signal!’ he cried; ‘the signal from the church. Some one’s been taken. I must go at once--I shall be needed.’ He had his hat and cloak on in a moment, was through the passage and into the street, Hendricks following at his heels. The whole place seemed alive. Yet the roadway was deserted, and no lights showed at the windows of the houses. Only from the farther end of the village, where stood the cabaret, came a roar of voices, shouting, crying, singing. The impression was that the population was centred there. Far in the starry sky a line of fires blazed upon the heights, throwing a lurid reflection above the deep black valley. Excitement filled the night.