“Does any one know Victor Hugo’s handwriting?”

“I do,” said Biscarrat.  He looked at the paper.  It was my proclamation to the army.  “This must be printed,” said Petit.  “I will undertake it,” said Biscarrat.  Antoine Bard asked him, “Do you know Victor Hugo?” “He saved my life,” answered Biscarrat.  The Representatives shook hands with him.

Guilgot arrived.  Then Versigny.  Versigny knew Biscarrat.  He had seen him at my house.  Versigny said, “Take care what you do.  There is a man outside the door.”  “It is a shawl-maker,” said Biscarrat.  “He has come with me.  He is following me.”  “But,” resumed Versigny, “he is wearing a blouse, beneath which he has a handkerchief.  He seems to be hiding this, and he has something in the handkerchief.”

“Sugar-plums,” said Biscarrat.

They were cartridges.

Versigny and Biscarrat went to the office of the Siecle; at the Siecle thirty workmen, at the risk of being shot, offered to print my Proclamation.  Biscarrat left it with them, and said to Versigny, “Now I want my barricade.”

The shawl-maker walked behind them.  Versigny and Biscarrat turned their steps towards the top of the Saint Denis quarter.  When they drew near to she Porte Saint Denis they heard the hum of many voices.  Biscarrat laughed and said to Versigny, “Saint Denis is growing angry, matters are improving.”  Biscarrat recruited forty combatants on the way, amongst whom was Moulin, head of the association of leather-dressers.  Chapuis, sergeant-major of the National Guard, brought them four muskets and ten swords.  “Do you know where there are any more?” asked Biscarrat.  “Yes, at the Saint Sauveur Baths.”  They went there, and found forty muskets.  They gave them swords and cartridge-pouches.  Gentlemen well dressed, brought tin boxes containing powder and balls.  Women, brave and light-hearted, manufactured cartridges.  At the first door adjoining the Rue du Hasard-Saint-Sauveur they requisitioned iron bars and hammers from a large courtyard belonging to a locksmith.  Having the arms, they had the men.  They speedily numbered a hundred.  They began to tear up the pavements.  It was half-past ten.  “Quick! quick!” cried Georges Biscarrat, “the barricade of my dreams!” It was in the Rue Thevenot.  The barrier was constructed high and formidable.  To abridge.  At eleven o’clock Georges Biscarrat had completed his barricade.  At noon he was killed there.

CHAPTER XIV.

OSSIAN AND SCIPIO

Arrests grew more numerous.