four o’clock
Now the feverish movement in Beaumont-l'Eglise was calmed ; a peculiar air of expectation seemed to fill the streets , which were all ready , and where everyone spoke softly , in hushed , whispering voices . The heat had diminished , as the sun 's rays grew oblique , and between the houses , so closely pressed the one against the others , there fell from the pale sky only a warm , fine shadow of a gentle , serene nature . The air of meditation was profound , as if the old town had become simply a continuation of the Cathedral ; the only sound of carriages that could be heard came up from Beaumont-la-Ville , the new town on the banks of the Ligneul , where many of the factories were not closed , as the proprietors disdained taking part in this ancient religious ceremony . Soon after four o'clock the great bell of the northern tower , the one whose swinging stirred the house of the Huberts , began to ring ; and it was at that very moment that Hubertine and Angelique reappeared . The former had put on a dress of pale buff linen , trimmed with a simple thread lace , but her figure was so slight and youthful in its delicate roundness that she looked as if she were the sister of her adopted daughter . Angelique wore her dress of white foulard , with its soft ruchings at the neck and wrists , and nothing else ; neither earrings nor bracelets , only her bare wrists and throat , soft in their satiny whiteness as they came out from the delicate material , light as the opening of a flower . An invisible comb , put in place hastily , scarcely held the curls of her golden hair , which was carelessly dressed .