THE COMPLETE WORKS OF ÉMILE ZOLA. Эмиль Золя

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      The two brothers had begun slowly ascending towards the Cours. Marius taking Philippe that way, so as to bring him to the room where he had hidden his child; he said to himself, that once there, he would retain him and save him in spite of himself.

      “Fine and Joseph have found refuge near here,” he said, as they walked along, “I advised my wife to pass the day with your son in the little lodging on the Place aux Œufs, so as to be beyond reach of a surprise, which could easily be accomplished during the troubles of this day. Come along, we’ll only remain a few minutes if you like.”

      Philippe followed his brother without answering. He recalled M. Martelly’s severe language; the shot that had wounded the General still resounded in his ears, he stiffened his neck, he would not abandon the people’s cause, and yet, in spite of himself, he began to hear the grave voice of reason, which whispered to him not to mix in a useless and sanguinary outbreak. Besides, he ignored what was passing; all, perhaps, was over; the workmen might be raising barricades in distant streets, and these would be captured before they had time to defend them. He walked beside his brother with an uneasy mind, half conquered and not knowing what to do.

      It was then that the two brothers, on entering the Grande Rue, perceived a crowd of workmen on the Place aux Œufs, who were hastily throwing-up barricades.

      Marius stopped in despair. He reflected that Fine and Joseph would find themselves in the centre of the riot and he said to himself, that Philippe would now certainly fight. What worried him more than anything else, was that he accused himself of being the author of all this misfortune. Was it not he who had advised his wife to take refuge there? Was it not he who had just led his brother into the middle of the riot?

      Philippe had also stopped, and called his brother’s attention to the scene before them.

      “Look,” he exclaimed, “chance has spared me from the shame of acting as a coward, by leading me to those whom I had sworn to defend and whom I was, perhaps, about to abandon. I will fight for liberty, and watch over my son.”

      He climbed over the first obstructions that had been thrown across the street, and found himself in the midst of workmen who shook him warmly by the hand. Marius followed, and ran rapidly upstairs to the room where Fine and Joseph were.

      Mathéus had completely succeeded. He had attained his end, step by step, assisted by circumstances, and advancing slowly and surely towards his object. It was he who had in a measure produced the events, urging on the people to insurrection, and bringing them to fight at the very spot where he desired the riot to break out.

      After having discharged his musket at the General, he ascended in double quick time towards the Cours, leading parties of workmen with him, whilst the terrified crowd were trampling each other under foot. As he ran, he uttered this rallying cry:

      “To the Place aux Œufs! To the Place aux Œufs!”

      So soon as he had succeeded in getting about a dozen rioters to follow him, he shouted louder than ever, and rapidly had a crowd at his heels. This flood of armed men, passing through the gathering, indicated a direction to the insurrectionary movement which until then had been hesitating. The workmen, not knowing where to entrench themselves, would perhaps have dispersed; but seeing some of their comrades running towards a place they indicated, they wished to follow them, and all who were spurred on to the struggle by thoughts of vengeance, flew into the Grande Rue. The Place aux Œufs was soon full.

      Mathéus on reaching the square, pointed out the beautiful spot he had chosen to the workmen about him.

      “Look,” he said to them. “The place seems to have been made for fighting.”

      That remark ran through the crowd. The revolt was destined to break out in the centre of the old town, amidst those narrow streets that could be easily barricaded. Every one felt that the insurrection was at home there, and they thought only of the struggle. A breath of irritation sped through this fiery-headed mob.

      The workmen, however, did not dare act. The post of National Guards which Mathéus had noticed in the morning was still in a corner of the square.

      “Stop,” said Mathéus to the most enthusiastic, “I’ll undertake to disperse them. They are friends.”

      He went up to the lieutenant with whom he had previously exchanged a few words, and asked him if his men were for the people. The lieutenant answered that they were there to preserve order.

      “So are we,” Mathéus answered, shamelessly.

      Then he approached him, and added in a lower tone:

      “Listen, I have a bit of advice to give you. You go off as quickly as you can. If you refuse, we shall be obliged to disarm you, perhaps kill you, and brothers, you know, don’t kill each other. Trust in me, don’t remain a minute longer.”

      The lieutenant glanced round him. He felt only too glad to go away, but he was afraid of appearing a coward. The position was critical. The rioters slowly surrounded the National Guard and gazed at their muskets with eyes burning with desire. Other men were working at the barricade, and the lieutenant could not quietly look on without making an effort to stop them. He preferred to withdraw; and the National Guards marched off amidst profound silence.

      From that moment the square was in possession of the rioters, who began fortifying themselves there as well as they could. Their misfortune was that they had not the necessary materials for throwing up a lofty and solid barricade. They had to be satisfied with the benches and packing cases of the dealers in herbs established there. These they first of all placed across the street, and they then searched the adjoining houses for barrels, planks and any other kind of suitable material.

      In the meanwhile, Mathéus was resting on his victory. Now that he had attained his end, he wished to make himself as small as possible, and disappeared in the crowd, so as not to compromise himself further. He had washed his face at a neighbouring fountain, and had left his musket standing against a wall. He lolled about among the crowd, with his hands in his pockets, like a good bourgeois; he presented such a tranquil appearance, that the workmen who had seen him performing the comedy of anger, did not recognise him. He ended by ascending the steps of a house from which he attentively followed the scene that was passing on the square, and searched with his eyes for Philippe and Marius.

      “You will fall into the trap, my little beauties,” he thought, with a calm smile. “My snares are well set. Ah! you wanted to place the child in safety. Eh! simpletons that you are, you have thrown him into my arms! You will rush to protect the little darling, and be caught with him!”

      He kept on looking, without showing the least impatience. He knew those whom he was awaiting could not fail to come. When the two brothers emerged from the Grande Rue, he merely shrugged his shoulders and murmured:

      “I was sure of it.”

      Then, he never lost sight of them. He followed them in the crowd, and saw Marius run up to find Fine, whilst Philippe mixed with the rioters.

      “Come, that’s perfect,” he murmured again. “I shall, perhaps, be obliged to kill the little young man. As to the great booby, his business is settled, if the National Guards don’t send him to rot in the ground, we’ll see that the assizes send him to rot in prison.”

      He descended and went and turned round Philippe out of curiosity. The hour for him to act had not arrived. He thought himself at a play, his instincts were gently tickled at the hope of being present at a massacre. While waiting to accomplish the abduction he had СКАЧАТЬ