and through the roar of the wind and sea came the distant note of a
bell clanging continuously.

"It is the bell on Fecamp pier," said Belfort. "The mist is coming
before the dawn."

To the east the long arm of Fecamp light swung slowly round the
horizon, from the summit of the great bluff of Notre Dame du Salut,
as if sweeping the sea and elbowing away all that dared approach so
grim a coast.

"Ah!" exclaimed the priest, "I am in the water--the tide is coming
up."

To their left a wall of foam and spray shut off all view of the sea.
On the right the cliff rose, a vast barrier, and cut the sky in two.
These two men had nothing in common. They had, indeed, standing
between them that sword which was brought into the world nineteen
hundred years ago, and is still unsheathed. But neither thought of
turning back. It had been agreed between them that they should make
what speed they could along the shore, and only turn back at the
last moment, searching the sea and beach as they returned in the
light of dawn.

Belfort, the leader, the expert in night and tide and wind, led the
way with one eye on the sea, the other on the eastern sky, which was
now showing grey through tossing clouds.

"Here we must turn," he said suddenly, "and the last half-mile to
the sea-wall we shall have to wade."