Now on our left at the bottom of the widened valley lay La Ferrière, grouped coquettishly round the tall chimney of a factory, whence escaped slowly-swelling volumes of smoke; the slender Jougninaz meandered ribbon-like among the grasses, slipping towards the neighbouring Orbe. On the side of the opposite slope, often lost to view in the zone of bushes and brushwood, the railway and the winding road, embracing each rocky contour, descended from the summit of the Col. Up above, the huge grey wall of the Mont d'Or rose in a peak, whose ridges stood out clearly against a pale blue sky, a scarcely perceptible cross marked the crest of the mountain. In olden days Mandrin and his bands used to come back into France by night by giddy pathways along this rampart; any one who stumbled was fair game for the wolves at the bottom. Midday had been roasting; but the height, and the approach of evening, brought coolness; not a trace of mist on the mountain tops; everything was quietness and purity. The road had just taken a turn. Jougne came into view, a vision which always enchanted me: the houses in the village, brand new, dazzlingly white, or a light vermilion, contrasted with the stalwart old grey church overhanging a high fortress. One imagined that the place must have been unparalleled in the command afforded over the only two big valleys which for ten miles round cut through the rugged chain of the Jura. Cipollina suddenly stood still and put his hand on my shoulder: "Just listen!" Straining my ears in the direction of the village, I listened intently. "Well! What's up?" I said. "The bells?" "Yes, the bells.... What are they ringing for there?" A gentle breeze had got up, and bore with it the call of the bronze; it was a sinister throbbing, hurried and unequal; I had a feeling that there was neither a peal of joy bells, nor the dismal tolling of the knell. We went on for a few steps. Now, more powerful and sonorous, with three jerky notes repeated at short intervals, the wild peal of alarm filled all the valley. "The tocsin!" said Cipollina. "Well?" "When do they ring the tocsin?" "In case of fire, I suppose." "Do you see any trace of fire?" With the same circular glance, we took in our surroundings. Two miles of verdant valley, lay unfolded before us; not a puff of smoke, save the column of the factory, and the steam from a descending train. Cipollina muttered: "Don't they also sound the tocsin in case of ... mobilisation?" "Oh! Steady on!" "What do we know about it!" he exclaimed. There was a short silence, then I said: "We shall find out at Jougne. Are you coming?" "No, I'm going back." "Aren't you curious about it?" "I've no reason for going down there." I looked him in the face. He met my gaze quite comfortably; but the twist in his nose struck me. "Well, then, till we meet again!" I said to him. "You'll come back to the hotel this evening?" "Why ... of course." "Yes, of course."