Lines from an old poem flashed unbidden into her mind -- `` there was a sound of revelry by night '' -- `` Hush ! Hark ! A deep sound strikes like a rising knell '' -- why should she think of that now ? Why did n't Jack Elliott speak -- if he had anything to tell ? Why did he just stand there , glowering importantly ? `` Ask him -- ask him , '' she said feverishly to Allan Daly . But somebody else had already asked him . The room grew very silent all at once . Outside the fiddler had stopped for a rest and there was silence there too . Afar off they heard the low moan of the gulf -- the presage of a storm already on its way up the Atlantic . A girl 's laugh drifted up from the rocks and died away as if frightened out of existence by the sudden stillness . `` England declared war on Germany today , '' said Jack Elliott slowly . `` The news came by wire just as I left town . '' `` God help us , '' whispered Gertrude Oliver under her breath . `` My dream -- my dream ! The first wave has broken . '' She looked at Allan Daly and tried to smile . `` Is this Armageddon ? '' she asked . `` I am afraid so , '' he said gravely .
A chorus XXXXX exclamations had arisen round them -- light surprise and idle interest for the most part .
Outside as at from if into of off to under