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<h2> CHAPTER VI—ENJOLRAS AND HIS LIEUTENANTS </h2>
<p>It was about this epoch that Enjolras, in view of a possible catastrophe,
instituted a kind of mysterious census.</p>
<p>All were present at a secret meeting at the Cafe Musain.</p>
<p>Enjolras said, mixing his words with a few half-enigmatical but
significant metaphors:—</p>
<p>"It is proper that we should know where we stand and on whom we may count.
If combatants are required, they must be provided. It can do no harm to
have something with which to strike. Passers-by always have more chance of
being gored when there are bulls on the road than when there are none. Let
us, therefore, reckon a little on the herd. How many of us are there?
There is no question of postponing this task until to-morrow.
Revolutionists should always be hurried; progress has no time to lose. Let
us mistrust the unexpected. Let us not be caught unprepared. We must go
over all the seams that we have made and see whether they hold fast. This
business ought to be concluded to-day. Courfeyrac, you will see the
polytechnic students. It is their day to go out. To-day is Wednesday.
Feuilly, you will see those of the Glaciere, will you not? Combeferre has
promised me to go to Picpus. There is a perfect swarm and an excellent one
there. Bahorel will visit the Estrapade. Prouvaire, the masons are growing
lukewarm; you will bring us news from the lodge of the Rue de
Grenelle-Saint-Honore. Joly will go to Dupuytren's clinical lecture, and
feel the pulse of the medical school. Bossuet will take a little turn in
the court and talk with the young law licentiates. I will take charge of
the Cougourde myself."</p>
<p>"That arranges everything," said Courfeyrac.</p>
<p>"No."</p>
<p>"What else is there?"</p>
<p>"A very important thing."</p>
<p>"What is that?" asked Courfeyrac.</p>
<p>"The Barriere du Maine," replied Enjolras.</p>
<p>Enjolras remained for a moment as though absorbed in reflection, then he
resumed:—</p>
<p>"At the Barriere du Maine there are marble-workers, painters, and
journeymen in the studios of sculptors. They are an enthusiastic family,
but liable to cool off. I don't know what has been the matter with them
for some time past. They are thinking of something else. They are becoming
extinguished. They pass their time playing dominoes. There is urgent need
that some one should go and talk with them a little, but with firmness.
They meet at Richefeu's. They are to be found there between twelve and one
o'clock. Those ashes must be fanned into a glow. For that errand I had
counted on that abstracted Marius, who is a good fellow on the whole, but
he no longer comes to us. I need some one for the Barriere du Maine. I
have no one."</p>
<p>"What about me?" said Grantaire. "Here am I."</p>
<p>"You?"</p>
<p>"I."</p>
<p>"You indoctrinate republicans! you warm up hearts that have grown cold in
the name of principle!"</p>
<p>"Why not?"</p>
<p>"Are you good for anything?"</p>
<p>"I have a vague ambition in that direction," said Grantaire.</p>
<p>"You do not believe in everything."</p>
<p>"I believe in you."</p>
<p>"Grantaire will you do me a service?"</p>
<p>"Anything. I'll black your boots."</p>
<p>"Well, don't meddle with our affairs. Sleep yourself sober from your
absinthe."</p>
<p>"You are an ingrate, Enjolras."</p>
<p>"You the man to go to the Barriere du Maine! You capable of it!"</p>
<p>"I am capable of descending the Rue de Gres, of crossing the Place
Saint-Michel, of sloping through the Rue Monsieur-le-Prince, of taking the
Rue de Vaugirard, of passing the Carmelites, of turning into the Rue
d'Assas, of reaching the Rue du Cherche-Midi, of leaving behind me the
Conseil de Guerre, of pacing the Rue des Vielles Tuileries, of striding
across the boulevard, of following the Chauss�e du Maine, of passing the
barrier, and entering Richefeu's. I am capable of that. My shoes are
capable of that."</p>
<p>"Do you know anything of those comrades who meet at Richefeu's?"</p>
<p>"Not much. We only address each other as thou."</p>
<p>"What will you say to them?"</p>
<p>"I will speak to them of Robespierre, pardi! Of Danton. Of principles."</p>
<p>"You?"</p>
<p>"I. But I don't receive justice. When I set about it, I am terrible. I
have read Prudhomme, I know the Social Contract, I know my constitution of
the year Two by heart. 'The liberty of one citizen ends where the liberty
of another citizen begins.' Do you take me for a brute? I have an old
bank-bill of the Republic in my drawer. The Rights of Man, the sovereignty
of the people, sapristi! I am even a bit of a Hebertist. I can talk the
most superb twaddle for six hours by the clock, watch in hand."</p>
<p>"Be serious," said Enjolras.</p>
<p>"I am wild," replied Grantaire.</p>
<p>Enjolras meditated for a few moments, and made the gesture of a man who
has taken a resolution.</p>
<p>"Grantaire," he said gravely, "I consent to try you. You shall go to the
Barriere du Maine."</p>
<p>Grantaire lived in furnished lodgings very near the Cafe Musain. He went
out, and five minutes later he returned. He had gone home to put on a
Robespierre waistcoat.</p>
<p>"Red," said he as he entered, and he looked intently at Enjolras. Then,
with the palm of his energetic hand, he laid the two scarlet points of the
waistcoat across his breast.</p>
<p>And stepping up to Enjolras, he whisp�red in his ear:—</p>
<p>"Be easy."</p>
<p>He jammed his hat on resolutely and departed.</p>
<p>A quarter of an hour later, the back room of the Cafe Musain was deserted.
All the friends of the A B C were gone, each in his own direction, each to
his own task. Enjolras, who had reserved the Cougourde of Aix for himself,
was the last to leave.</p>
<p>Those members of the Cougourde of Aix who were in Paris then met on the
plain of Issy, in one of the abandoned quarries which are so numerous in
that side of Paris.</p>
<p>As Enjolras walked towards this place, he passed the whole situation in
review in his own mind. The gravity of events was self-evident. When
facts, the premonitory symptoms of latent social malady, move heavily, the
slightest complication stops and entangles them. A phenomenon whence
arises ruin and new births. Enjolras descried a luminous uplifting beneath
the gloomy skirts of the future. Who knows? Perhaps the moment was at
hand. The people were again taking possession of right, and what a fine
spectacle! The revolution was again majestically taking possession of
France and saying to the world: "The sequel to-morrow!" Enjolras was
content. The furnace was being heated. He had at that moment a powder
train of friends scattered all over Paris. He composed, in his own mind,
with Combeferre's philosophical and penetrating eloquence, Feuilly's
cosmopolitan enthusiasm, Courfeyrac's dash, Bahorel's smile, Jean
Prouvaire's melancholy, Joly's science, Bossuet's sarcasms, a sort of
electric spark which took fire nearly everywhere at once. All hands to
work. Surely, the result would answer to the effort. This was well. This
made him think of Grantaire.</p>
<p>"Hold," said he to himself, "the Barriere du Maine will not take me far
out of my way. What if I were to go on as far as Richefeu's? Let us have a
look at what Grantaire is about, and see how he is getting on."</p>
<p>One o'clock was striking from the Vaugirard steeple when Enjolras reached
the Richefeu smoking-room.</p>
<p>He pushed open the door, entered, folded his arms, letting the door fall
to and strike his shoulders, and gazed at that room filled with tables,
men, and smoke.</p>
<p>A voice broke forth from the mist of smoke, interrupted by another voice.
It was Grantaire holding a dialogue with an adversary.</p>
<p>Grantaire was sitting opposite another figure, at a marble Saint-Anne
table, strewn with grains of bran and dotted with dominos. He was
hammering the table with his fist, and this is what Enjolras heard:—</p>
<p>"Double-six."</p>
<p>"Fours."</p>
<p>"The pig! I have no more."</p>
<p>"You are dead. A two."</p>
<p>"Six."</p>
<p>"Three."</p>
<p>"One."</p>
<p>"It's my move."</p>
<p>"Four points."</p>
<p>"Not much."</p>
<p>"It's your turn."</p>
<p>"I have made an enormous mistake."</p>
<p>"You are doing well."</p>
<p>"Fifteen."</p>
<p>"Seven more."</p>
<p>"That makes me twenty-two." [Thoughtfully, "Twenty-two!"]</p>
<p>"You weren't expecting that double-six. If I had placed it at the
beginning, the whole play would have been changed."</p>
<p>"A two again."</p>
<p>"One."</p>
<p>"One! Well, five."</p>
<p>"I haven't any."</p>
<p>"It was your play, I believe?"</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
<p>"Blank."</p>
<p>"What luck he has! Ah! You are lucky! [Long revery.] Two."</p>
<p>"One."</p>
<p>"Neither five nor one. That's bad for you."</p>
<p>"Domino."</p>
<p>"Plague take it!"</p>
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