About eight o'clock
And that was the calamity that had lain hidden in the blackness of that night of agony . And now the pale dawn was appearing at the portals of the east , heralding a day heavy with bitterest sorrow and striking white upon the silent tents , in one of which began to be visible the ashy faces of Loubet and Lapoulle , of Chouteau and of Pache , who were snoring still with wide-open mouths . Forth from the thin mists that were slowly creeping upward from the river off yonder in the distance came the new day , bringing with it mourning and affliction . About eight o'clock the sun dispersed the heavy clouds , and the broad , fertile plain about Mulhausen lay basking in the warm , bright light of a perfect August Sunday . From the camp , now awake and bustling with life , could be heard the bells of the neighboring parishes , pealing merrily in the limpid air . The cheerful Sunday following so close on ruin and defeat had its own gayety , its sky was as serene as on a holiday . Gaude suddenly took his bugle and gave the call that announced the distribution of rations , whereat Loubet appeared astonished .