ricades
were now in process of construction at once, both of them resting on the
Corinthe house and forming a right angle; the larger shut off the Rue
de la Chanvrerie, the other closed the Rue Mondetour, on the side of
the Rue de Cygne. This last barricade, which was very narrow, was
constructed only of casks and paving-stones. There were about fifty
workers on it; thirty were armed with guns; for, on their way, they had
effected a wholesale loan from an armorer's shop.

Nothing could be more bizarre and at the same time more motley than this
troop. One had a round-jacket, a cavalry sabre, and two holster-pistols,
another was in his shirt-sleeves, with a round hat, and a powder-horn
slung at his side, a third wore a plastron of nine sheets of gray paper
and was armed with a saddler's awl. There was one who was shouting:
"Let us exterminate them to the last man and die at the point of our
bayonet." This man had no bayonet. Another spread out over his coat the
cross-belt and cartridge-box of a National Guardsman, the cover of the
cartridge-box being ornamented with this inscription in red worsted:
Public Order. There were a great many guns bearing the numbers of the
legions, few hats, no cravats, many bare arms, some pikes. Add to
this, all ages, all sorts of faces, small, pale young men, and bronzed
longshoremen. All were in haste; and as they helped each other, they
discussed the possible chances. That they would receive succor about
three o'clock in the morning--that they were sure of one regiment, that
Paris would rise. Terrible sayings with which was mingled a sort of
cordial joviality. One would have pronounced them brothers, but they did
not know each other's names. Great perils have this fine characteristic,
that they bring to light the fraternity of strangers. A fire had been
lighted in the kitchen, and there they were engaged in moulding into
bullets, pewter mugs, spoons, forks, and all the brass table-ware of
the establishment. In the midst of it all, they drank. Caps and
buckshot were mixed pell-mell on the tables with glasses of wine. In
the billiard-hall, Mame Hucheloup, Matelote, and Gibelotte, variously
modified by terror, which had stupefied one, rendered another
breathless, and roused the third, were tearing up old dish-cloths and
making lint; three insurgents were assisting them, three bushy-haired,
jolly blades with beards and moustaches, who plucked away at the linen
with the fingers of seamstresses