THE COMPLETE WORKS OF ÉMILE ZOLA. Эмиль Золя

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СКАЧАТЬ the impulse of the irresistible movement of this mass of men, the group surrounding Philippe were compelled to advance a few steps. With their arms crossed over their breasts, to show they had no intention of making an attack, and that they were simply yielding to pressure from behind, the workmen arrived in this way before the soldiers. An officer seeing them approach lost his head and abruptly gave the command to lower bayonets. And the bright sharp weapons came down and faced the people.

      A desperate attempt was made to retire. Philippe and those around him threw themselves backward endeavouring to stem the enormous, crushing crowd that were pushing them on to death. But this living wall could not be resisted. It advanced solid as a wall of stone. The workmen forcibly, fatally, reached the points of the bayonets which the soldiers held ready for them. They saw these points at their breasts and felt them enter, little by little, into their flesh.

      It is related that while the general commanding made a despairing gesture and ordered the bayonets to be raised a clear voice was heard to shout from the Place Saint Ferréol: “Stick those ruffians! Stick them!” And, from the windows of a neighbouring aristocratic club, well dressed gentlemen applauded at the sight of the people’s blood flowing, as if they had been in a box at a theatre and were amused at the by-play of an actor.

      The workmen, at the first bayonet wounds, uttered cries of rage and terror. This crowd which had hitherto been silent, became mad at being attacked without any legal warning. It had only its fists to protect it against the muskets by which it was threatened.

      Philippe was not wounded thanks to Marius, who held him back at the moment when he was committing the folly of throwing himself forward with clenched fists. A few workmen around him were slightly hurt. One only had his arm run through.

      At the general’s word of command, the soldiers had raised their bayonets and retired step by step, but the crowd had suddenly stopped on realizing the fact that it was without arms. A shudder ran through the column from one end to the other. All at once it disbanded, rushing into the cross streets with the cry: “Vengeance! Vengeance! They are murdering our brothers!”

      For an instant there was a terrible noise; then the clamour died away: the workmen went off in search of arms, calling for assistance, spreading terror and anger in each street and always uttering the painful and formidable cry: “They are murdering our brothers! Vengeance! Vengeance!”

      At that moment M. de Cazalis and Mathéus were descending the Cours Bonaparte. The sullen rumble that they heard was the rush of the mob. Mathéus understood that here was a rupture and joyfully rubbed his hands. To ascertain the truth he stopped a peaceful bourgeois who was flying in terror, impatient to shut himself up at home.

      “Oh! sir,” he stammered out in answer to the inquiry, “they are killing one another over there. The soldiers have charged the people, and the people will set fire to the city, that’s sure.”

      And he fled, fancying he saw the flames behind him.

      “Well! What did I tell you?” said Mathéus to M. de Cazalis, “I knew very well we should be able to take advantage of circumstances. Here we are in the midst of a revolution. We must attend to our little business.”

      “What are you going to do?” asked the ex-deputy in an undertone.

      “Oh! what I am going to do is very simple. Now the people are mad, I can lead them along as I like. It will suffice if they fight at the place I shall take them to.”

      And as M. de Cazalis did not understand but gave him an inquiring look, the spy added:

      “Trust to me. I have not time to explain all to you. A final word: I advise you to take advantage of your disguise to mix with a company of National Guards. If you see a barricade anywhere, march with the troops that attack it.”

      “Why?”

      “Didn’t you tell me you were impatient and curious? Then do what I tell you: you will be in the first row.”

      Mathéus chuckled and looking his master straight in the face, continued:

      “You understand, you might find Philippe at the end of the barrel of your musket. Don’t go and miss him; and no bad joke, don’t fire at me so as to free yourself of my personality. That’s understood. When the barricade is taken I’ll show you how I work.”

      Mathéus hurried rapidly away. He was impatient to go and embroil matters. As he followed the Rue Grignan to enter the Rue Saint Ferréol and mix with the retiring workmen, he saw two men talking together on the pavement, and recognised Marius and Philippe.

      “Wait, wait,” he murmured as he ran along, “I think I shall be able to make you come and fight with us.”

      Marius was beseeching Philippe not to compromise himself any further. He reminded him of his son, of the happiness of all of them, and as his brother showed signs of impatience he exclaimed:

      “Well! So let it be! let us not speak of ourselves. But do you not see that the insurrection which is about to break out cannot succeed? The desire of a good patriot should be to avoid the effusion of blood, when fighting is contrary to the interests of all. I think I serve the country better than you, by preaching peace.”

      “They have tried to murder our brothers,” answered Philippe, in a sullen voice, “we must have vengeance. We did not commence. Look here, shall I tell you? We don’t want any more of this bourgeois Republic; we want a Republic of our own, a Republic of the people. Don’t answer, it’s useless. If the people fight, I shall fight.”

      “But, unfortunate being that you are! you are ruining yourself and your friends themselves by encouraging them with your presence, by leading them to certain imprisonment. Remember what M. Martelly told you.”

      Marius, for more than a quarter of an hour, endeavoured to influence his brother with arguments such as these, but the latter stood there with cloudy brow and sparkling eyes, and hardly listened to him. All at once Philippe seized his arm and compelled him to be silent. The sharp crack of musketry was heard at the bottom of the Rue Saint Ferréol.

      “Do you hear?” he exclaimed, excitedly, “they’re firing on unarmed men who ask for justice! And you wish me to stand by quietly, while that is going on, you want me to be a coward!”

      He went a few steps; then, turning round, continued more softly.

      “If I’m killed you’ll watch over Joseph. Adieu!”

      Marius hastened to join him.

      “I’ll go with you,” he said quietly.

      The two young men descended the Rue Saint Ferréol in all haste. On reaching the Rue Vacon, they heard the firing on their right and proceeded rapidly to the Rue de Rome. There, they were in the midst of the battle.

      Mathéus, on mixing with the workmen had begun to shout for vengeance louder than the others, and thus gathered a group of the most hot-headed round him. This party descended the Rue Saint Ferréol singing the Marseillaise, and ended by stopping at the corner of the Rue Pizançon, to listen to Mathéus, who demanded silence with a motion of the hand.

      “My friends,” he said, “it’s stupid to sing, we must act. If we run about the streets in this way we shall meet with soldiers who will either kill us or make us prisoners.”

      The crowd uttered a cry of rage.

      “Let СКАЧАТЬ