LIFE OF ELIE METCHNIKOFF 241 



weather became stormy, thunder rolled alarmingly, 

 heavy clouds hurried and met in a gigantic struggle, 

 evoking the image of other coming struggles. During 

 the night of the 1st August the storm never ceased, 

 we could not sleep; all night long, frenzied auto- 

 mobiles raced along the high road, sounding their 

 lugubrious horns. In the middle of the night, we 

 heard some one knocking at the doors of the police 

 station opposite. What was happening ? In the 

 darkness, illumined by flashes of lightning, we saw 

 horsemen with lanterns ; they were messengers 

 bringing the orders for mobilisation. It was pro- 

 claimed the next day. 



The population gathered at the mairie, a grave, 

 silent crowd ; the few words exchanged only con- 

 cerned war and partings. Old men, who had lived 

 through 1870, were low-spirited ; young ones, on the 

 contrary, were excited. 



We had to think of our return home, which might 

 be difficult later. We went into the forest for the 

 last time ; the evening was mild and calm after the 

 storm. The peace and beauty around us were such 

 that we longed not to believe in the terrible reality. 

 But we had to bid farewell to all that had charmed 

 us. We went once again into the meadows near 

 Norka. The hayricks were standing in rows, their 

 soft, golden silhouettes harmoniously outlined against 

 the hilly background purple with heather. We sat 

 down on the mown grass. Suddenly, in the calm of 

 the evening, bells began to sound. It was not the 

 distant and poetic call for vespers, nor the sad sound 

 of the passing bell, but the hard, sinister, ill- 

 omened tocsin, warning the whole countryside, down 

 to the most distant, most peaceful hamlets and to the 



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