t this
stony step had something indescribably enormous and multiple about it
which awakened the idea of a throng, and, at the same time, the idea
of a spectre. One thought one heard the terrible statue Legion marching
onward. This tread drew near; it drew still nearer, and stopped. It
seemed as though the breathing of many men could be heard at the end of
the street. Nothing was to be seen, however, but at the bottom of that
dense obscurity there could be distinguished a multitude of metallic
threads, as fine as needles and almost imperceptible, which moved about
like those indescribable phosphoric networks which one sees beneath
one's closed eyelids, in the first mists of slumber at the moment
when one is dropping off to sleep. These were bayonets and gun-barrels
confusedly illuminated by the distant reflection of the torch.

A pause ensued, as though both sides were waiting. All at once, from the
depths of this darkness, a voice, which was all the more sinister, since
no one was visible, and which appeared to be the gloom itself speaking,
shouted:--

"Who goes there?"

At the same time, the click of guns, as they were lowered into position,
was heard.

Enjolras replied in a haughty and vibrating tone:--

"The French Revolution!"

"Fire!" shouted the voice.

A flash empurpled all the facades in the street as though the door of a
furnace had been flung open, and hastily closed again.

A fearful detonation burst forth on the barricade. The red flag fell.
The discharge had been so violent and so dense that it had cut the
staff, that is to say, the very tip of the omnibus pole.

Bullets which had rebounded from the cornices of the houses penetrated
the barricade and wounded several men.

The impression produced by this first discharge was freezing. The attack
had been rough, and of a nature to inspire reflection in the boldest.
It was evident that they had to deal with an entire regiment at the very
least.

"Comrades!" shouted Courfeyrac, "let us not waste our powder. Let us
wait until they are in the street before replying."

"And, above all," said Enjolras, "let us raise the flag again."

He picked up the flag, which had fallen precisely at his feet.

Outside, the clatter of the ramrods in the guns could be heard; the
troops were re-loading their arms.

Enjolras went on:--

"Who is there here with a bold heart? Who will plant the flag on the
barricade again?"

Not a man responded. To mount on the b