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The clang of the distant bell chased away Elsa's last hovering dreams. Andor did not hear it; he was pressing the girl closer and closer to him, unmindful of his surroundings, unmindful that he was on the high road, and that frequently ox-carts went by laden with people, and that passers-by were hurrying now toward the railway station.
The far-sounding clang of a brass gong roused the poet from his ecstasy. It was the tomtom calling him to duty, to the lecture on rhetoric which at this hour he had to deliver to the young priests.
Yet not a cry was heard, though there was no wind among the leaves, and when murders are done the people say, "you year shrill screams." Neither was a pistol shot heard, or so much as the clang of a dagger. Ah! but it was the sport to see bow discreetly the thing was managed! I see, young man, you would like to find out the modes.
Get thee hence quickly, and be glad of thy life, thou hast many years before thee yet in which to play the lover and fool!" With this enigmatical speech he signed to his men to follow him, they all filed through the gates, which closed after them with a jarring clang, ... a dark bearded face peered out of a narrow loophole in one of the watch-towers, and a deep voice called: "What of the hour?"
His hand was on the bar. He knew, as did they all, that there was not an instant to lose. Their lives hung by a hair. At any moment the flames might reach the dynamite and then annihilation, swift and terrible. "Now!" he cried, dropping the bar. A strange light, not of fear but of determination, gleamed in his eyes. Clang!
In a few minutes there was a clang at the front-door bell, and our nurses and assistants who lived outside began to arrive. Two of the dressers had to come half a mile along the Malines road, where the shells were falling thickest, and every few yards they had had to shelter in doorways from the flying shrapnel.
It is like the note of a wind instrument an oboe adding its slow note to the boom of the kettle-drum, the clang of gold-colored cymbals, and the singing ecstasy of violins. One such small voice Ann 'Lisbeth Connors added to the great threnody of industry. Department stores that turned from her services almost before they were offered.
"Kit," he said, and, drawing the boy towards him, kissed him. "Time!" came the stern voice from without. The Parson slammed back the last bolt with a clang, and whipped up his sword. "Ready?" The man was in a white flame, roaring for battle. "Yes." Time had stopped: Eternity was there. "Then God help us all to die!" He flung back the door and plunged.
As he started down the last flight he heard the elevator door clang below, and as it shot past him he caught a glimpse of white garments and a face with eyes that he knew. He stopped short and looked upward. Was it could it be? But no, of course not. He was foolish.
Then they stopped amid the sand and the shingle. The moon was shining down now in all its calm splendour, illuminating the great tossing ocean and the long dark sweep of the Hampshire coast. By its light the two men looked at one another, such a look as two lost souls might have exchanged when they heard the gates of hell first clang behind them.
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