Page 474 - vanity-fair

ment’s health; or, indeed, take any other excuse to indulge
in a glass of champagne. ‘We’ll drink to O’Dowd and the
brave —th,’ said he, bowing gallantly to his guest. ‘Hey,
Mrs. O’Dowd? Fill Mrs. O’Dowd’s glass, Isidor.’
But all of a sudden, Isidor started, and the Major’s wife
laid down her knife and fork. The windows of the room
were open, and looked southward, and a dull distant sound
came over the sun-lighted roofs from that direction. ‘What
is it?’ said Jos. ‘Why don’t you pour, you rascal?’
‘Cest le feu!’ said Isidor, running to the balcony.
‘God defend us; it’s cannon!’ Mrs. O’Dowd cried, start-
ing up, and followed too to the window. A thousand pale
and anxious faces might have been seen looking from other
casements. And presently it seemed as if the whole popula-
tion of the city rushed into the streets.

474 Vanity Fair