第 三百一十三 章 · WHEREIN WILL APPEAR THE NAME OF ENJOLRAS’ MISTRESS

Courfeyrac, seated on a paving-stone beside Enjolras, continued to

insult the cannon, and each time that that gloomy cloud of projectiles

which is called grape-shot passed overhead with its terrible sound he

assailed it with a burst of irony.

“You are wearing out your lungs, poor, brutal, old fellow, you pain me,

you are wasting your row. That’s not thunder, it’s a cough.”

And the bystanders laughed.

Courfeyrac and Bossuet, whose brave good humor increased with the

peril, like Madame Scarron, replaced nourishment with pleasantry, and,

as wine was lacking, they poured out gayety to all.

“I admire Enjolras,” said Bossuet. “His impassive temerity astounds me.

He lives alone, which renders him a little sad, perhaps; Enjolras

complains of his greatness, which binds him to widowhood. The rest of

us have mistresses, more or less, who make us crazy, that is to say,

brave. When a man is as much in love as a tiger, the least that he can

do is to fight like a lion. That is one way of taking our revenge for

the capers that mesdames our grisettes play on us. Roland gets himself

killed for Angélique; all our heroism comes from our women. A man

without a woman is a pistol without a trigger; it is the woman that

sets the man off. Well, Enjolras has no woman. He is not in love, and

yet he manages to be intrepid. It is a thing unheard of that a man

should be as cold as ice and as bold as fire.”

Enjolras did not appear to be listening, but had any one been near him,

that person would have heard him mutter in a low voice: “Patria.”

Bossuet was still laughing when Courfeyrac exclaimed:

“News!”

And assuming the tone of an usher making an announcement, he added:

“My name is Eight-Pounder.”

In fact, a new personage had entered on the scene. This was a second

piece of ordnance.

The artillery-men rapidly performed their manœuvres in force and placed

this second piece in line with the first.

This outlined the catastrophe.

A few minutes later, the two pieces, rapidly served, were firing

point-blank at the redoubt; the platoon firing of the line and of the

soldiers from the suburbs sustained the artillery.

Another cannonade was audible at some distance. At the same time that

the two guns were furiously attacking the redoubt from the Rue de la

Chanvrerie, two other cannons, trained one from the Rue Saint-Denis,

the other from the Rue Aubry-le-Boucher, were riddling the Saint-Merry

barricade. The four cannons echoed each other mournfully.

The barking of these sombre dogs of war replied to each other.

One of the two pieces which was now battering the barricade on the Rue

de la Chanvrerie was firing grape-shot, the other balls.

The piece which was firing balls was pointed a little high, and the aim

was calculated so that the ball struck the extreme edge of the upper

crest of the barricade, and crumbled the stone down upon the

insurgents, mingled with bursts of grape-shot.

The object of this mode of firing was to drive the insurgents from the

summit of the redoubt, and to compel them to gather close in the

interior, that is to say, this announced the assault.

The combatants once driven from the crest of the barricade by balls,

and from the windows of the cabaret by grape-shot, the attacking

columns could venture into the street without being picked off,

perhaps, even, without being seen, could briskly and suddenly scale the

redoubt, as on the preceding evening, and, who knows? take it by

surprise.

“It is absolutely necessary that the inconvenience of those guns should

be diminished,” said Enjolras, and he shouted: “Fire on the

artillery-men!”

All were ready. The barricade, which had long been silent, poured forth

a desperate fire; seven or eight discharges followed, with a sort of

rage and joy; the street was filled with blinding smoke, and, at the

end of a few minutes, athwart this mist all streaked with flame, two

thirds of the gunners could be distinguished lying beneath the wheels

of the cannons. Those who were left standing continued to serve the

pieces with severe tranquillity, but the fire had slackened.

“Things are going well now,” said Bossuet to Enjolras. “Success.”

Enjolras shook his head and replied:

“Another quarter of an hour of this success, and there will not be any

cartridges left in the barricade.”

It appears that Gavroche overheard this remark.