nd put on his woollen cap, driving away the cat
that was sleeping upon it; then he took the great key of the steeple
from a drawer, and we went out together, I glad to find myself again in
the open air, despite the cold; for their miserable room was gray with
vapor, and as hard to breathe in as a kettle; I could never understand
how people could live in such a way.

At last we gained the street, and Father Brainstein said:

"You have heard of the great Russian disaster, Monsieur Joseph?"

"Yes, Father Brainstein; it is fearful!"

"Ah!" said he, "there will be many a Mass said in the churches; every
one will weep and pray for their children, the more that they are dead
in a heathen land."

"Certainly, certainly," I replied.

We crossed the court, and in front of the tower-hall, opposite the
guard-house, many peasants and city people were already standing,
reading a placard. We went up the steps and entered the church, where
more than twenty women, young and old, were kneeling on the pavement,
in spite of the terrible cold.

"Is it not as I said?" said Brainstein. "They are coming already to
pray, and half of them have been here since five o'clock."

He opened the little door of the steeple leading to the organ, and we
began climbing up in the dark. Once in the organ-loft, we turned to
the left of the bellows, and went up to the bells.

I was glad to see the blue sky and breathe the free air again, for the
bad odor of the bats which inhabited the tower almost suffocated me.
But how terrible the cold was in that cage, open to every wind, and how
dazzlingly the snow shone over twenty leagues of country! All the
little city of Phalsbourg, with its six bastions, three _demilunes_,
two advanced works, its barracks, magazines, bridges, _glacis_,
ramparts; its great parade-ground, and little, well-aligned houses,
were beneath me, as if drawn on white paper. I was not yet accustomed
to the height, and I held fast on the middle of the platform for fear I
might jump off, for I had read of people having their heads turned by
great heights. I did not dare go to the clock, and, if Brainstein had
not set me the example, I would have remained there, pressed against
the beam from which the bells hung; but he said:

"Come, Monsieur Joseph, and see if it is right."

Then I took out Monsieur Goulden's large watch which marked seconds,
and I saw that the clock was considerably slow. Brainstein helped me
to wind it up, and