"Why?"
"There"s going to be a row."
"That"s well."
"Thrusts with the sword and firing, M. Mabeuf."
"That is well."
"Firing from cannon."
"That is good. Where are the rest of you going?"
"We are going to fling the government to the earth."
"That is good."
And he had set out to follow them. From that moment forth he had not uttered a word. His step had suddenly become firm; artisans had offered him their arms; he had refused with a sign of the head. He advanced nearly to the front rank of the column, with the movement of a man who is marching and the countenance of a man who is sleeping.
"What a fierce old fellow!" muttered the students. The rumor spread through the troop that he was a former member of the Convention,--an old regicide. The mob had turned in through the Rue de la Verrerie.
Little Gavroche marched in front with that deafening song which made of him a sort of trumpet.
He sang: "Voici la lune qui paratt, Quand irons-nous dans la foret?
Demandait Charlot a Charlotte.
Tou tou tou Pour Chatou.
Je n"ai qu"un Dieu, qu"un roi, qu"un liard, et qu"une botte.
"Pour avoir bu de grand matin La rosee a meme le thym, Deux moineaux etaient en ribotte.
Zi zi zi Pour Pa.s.sy.
Je n"ai qu"un Dieu, qu"un roi, qu"un liard, et qu"une botte.
"Et ces deux pauvres pet.i.ts loups, Comme deux grives estaient souls; Une tigre en riait dans sa grotte.
Don don don Pour Meudon.
Je n"ai qu"un Dieu, qu"un roi, qu"un liard, et qu"une botte.
"L"un jurait et l"autre sacrait.
Quand irons nous dans la foret?
Demandait Charlot a Charlotte.
Tin tin tin Pour Pantin.
Je n"ai qu"un Dieu, qu"un roi, qu"un liard, et qu"une botte."[46]
They directed their course towards Saint-Merry.
CHAPTER VI--RECRUITS
The band augmented every moment. Near the Rue des Billettes, a man of lofty stature, whose hair was turning gray, and whose bold and daring mien was remarked by Courfeyrac, Enjolras, and Combeferre, but whom none of them knew, joined them. Gavroche, who was occupied in singing, whistling, humming, running on ahead and pounding on the shutters of the shops with the b.u.t.t of his triggerless pistol; paid no attention to this man.
It chanced that in the Rue de la Verrerie, they pa.s.sed in front of Courfeyrac"s door.
"This happens just right," said Courfeyrac, "I have forgotten my purse, and I have lost my hat."
He quitted the mob and ran up to his quarters at full speed. He seized an old hat and his purse.
He also seized a large square coffer, of the dimensions of a large valise, which was concealed under his soiled linen.
As he descended again at a run, the portress hailed him:--
"Monsieur de Courfeyrac!"
"What"s your name, portress?"
The portress stood bewildered.
"Why, you know perfectly well, I"m the concierge; my name is Mother Veuvain."
"Well, if you call me Monsieur de Courfeyrac again, I shall call you Mother de Veuvain. Now speak, what"s the matter? What do you want?"
"There is some one who wants to speak with you."
"Who is it?"
"I don"t know."
"Where is he?"
"In my lodge."
"The devil!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Courfeyrac.
"But the person has been waiting your return for over an hour," said the portress.
At the same time, a sort of pale, thin, small, freckled, and youthful artisan, clad in a tattered blouse and patched trousers of ribbed velvet, and who had rather the air of a girl accoutred as a man than of a man, emerged from the lodge and said to Courfeyrac in a voice which was not the least in the world like a woman"s voice:--
"Monsieur Marius, if you please."
"He is not here."
"Will he return this evening?"
"I know nothing about it."