"Do you hear that, Charlie

"Do you hear that, Charlie?" said Mr. Wonka, looking up suddenly. Charlie Bucket broke his unfaltering gaze at a mechanism which was pouring syrupy purple ripples onto a conveyor belt and looked around, listening hard. All he could hear were the familiar whizzes, pops, and shrieks of the machines which always filled the Inventing Room.

"Hear what, Mr. Wonka?"

Willy Wonka was silent for a few moments, and then said, "Oh, nothing" and resumed humming while he carefully painted the wings of Butterfly Creams. But Charlie Bucket's curiosity was excited and he strained his ears for some unusual sound. Several minutes went by and Charlie was beginning to think that perhaps it really was nothing when Mr. Wonka's head popped up sharply again.

"What is it, Mr. Wonka?"

"SSSHHH!" shushed the candy-maker, pressing a finger to his lips. His eyes were wide and his brows knit in concentration. His clever ears were at work. At last, Charlie began to hear it, too. It was a soft, distant rumbling sound.

Willy Wonka tilted his head to one side, the little smiling wrinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes. "That sounds almost like… that sounds almost as if…" The rumbling seemed to be getting louder. It sounded just like an enormous grumbling tummy. Charlie was now burning with curiosity but he kept quiet, listening intently as Wonka stood with his finger on the tip of his nose, fossilized with thought. Suddenly, as if he had been bitten by a Hornswoggler, Mr. Wonka gave a cry of alarm and leapt three feet in the air.

"Oh, my sainted bottle-green pants! Oh, my suspenders! Oh, my dear boy! We must get out of the factory, quick, quick, quick!"

In a flurry of coattails, Mr. Wonka dashed to the little window that connected the Inventing Room to the Testing Room, speaking frantically to one of the Oompa-Loompas. Although he spoke barely above a whisper, Charlie could hear every word of what Mr. Wonka was saying.

"Quick, get everyone down into the villages! Makes sure no Oompa-Loompa is above ground!"

There was something deadly and dangerous in his voice. This was deadly serious. A nameless thrill of fear wriggled up and down Charlie's spine and he shivered.

"Mr. Wonka, please tell me what's going on. Why do we have to leave the factory? What's coming?"

Willy Wonka was frantically stuffing bits of paper and other important objects into the pockets of his tailcoat.

"No time, my dear boy, no time! We must skedaddle! We must get your family and get far away as soon as possible! Quick, Charlie, quick, or we'll all be squashed!"

"Squashed by what?" cried Charlie.

"Good heavens, Charlie, this is no time for chattering! We've got to GO!" And with that he grabbed Charlie Bucket by the hand and off they flew. As soon as they were in the hallway, Mr. Wonka broke into a full sprint, his coattails flapping behind, while Charlie struggled to keep hold of his hand. He was dying to know what all this was about, but the unusual grim expression on Mr. Wonka's face told him that all he would get in the way of an answer would be another shushing. They ran down hallway after hallway at a breakneck speed. Left. Right. Right. Left. Left. Right. Charlie tried figure out which direction they were going but it made him incredibly dizzy and he soon gave it up.

At last they came to the great door to the Chocolate Room.