I must tell you that I removed the clapper of the bell, by his Reverence's order, precisely to prevent the tocsin from being sounded.

But Monsieur Granoux wouldn't listen to reason.

He climbed up, and I've no idea what he can be making that noise with." Thereupon Rougon hastily ascended the staircase which led to the bells, shouting: "That will do! That will do! For goodness' sake leave off!" When he had reached the top he caught sight of Granoux, by the light of the moon which glided through an embrasure; the ex almond dealer was standing there hatless, and dealing furious blows with a heavy hammer.
He did so with a right good will.

He first threw himself back, then took a spring, and finally fell upon the sonorous bronze as if he wanted to crack it.

One might have thought he was a blacksmith striking hot iron--but a frock-coated blacksmith, short and bald, working in a wild and awkward way.
Surprise kept Rougon motionless for a moment at the sight of this frantic bourgeois thus belabouring the bell in the moonlight.