Then he hastily explained that he had gone through the whole of the quarter in order to find a gun, that it was labor lost, that he had spoken to “two or three,” that we must abandon all hope of the societies, that they would not come down, that what had been done during the day had appalled every one, that the best men were terrified, that the boulevards were “full of corpses,” that the soldiers had committed “horrors,” that the barricade was about to be attacked, that on his arrival he had heard the noise of footsteps in the direction of the crossway, that it was the soldiers who were advancing, that we could do nothing further there, that we must be off, that this house was “stupidly chosen,” that there was no outlet in the rear, that perhaps we should already find it difficult to get out of the street, and that we had only just time.

He told this all panting, briefly, jerkily, and interrupted at every moment with this ejaculation, “And to think that they have no arms, and to think that I have no gun!”

As he finished we heard from the barricade a shout of “Attention!” and almost immediately a shot was fired.

A violent discharge replied to this shot.

Several balls struck the paling of the ambulance, but they were too obliquely aimed, and none pierced it.  We heard the glass of several broken windows falling noisily into the street.

“There is no longer time,” said the last-maker calmly; “the barricade is attacked.”

He took a chair and sat down.  The two workmen were evidently excellent marksmen.  Two volleys assailed the barricade, one after the other.  The barricade answered with animation.  Then the fire ceased.  There was a pause.

“Now they are coming at us with the bayonet!  They are coming at the double!” said a voice in the barricade.

The other voice said, “Let us be off.”  A last musket-shot was fired.  Then a violent blow which we interpreted as a warning shook our wooden wall.  It was in reality one of the workmen who had thrown down his gun when going away; the gun in falling had struck the paling of the ambulance.  We heard the rapid steps of the two combatants, as they ran off.

Almost at the same moment a tumult of voices, and of butt ends of muskets striking the paving-stones, filled the barricade.

“It is taken,” said the last-maker, and he blew out the candle.

To the silence which enveloped this street a moment before succeeded a sort of ill-omened tumult.  The soldiers knocked at the doors of the houses with the butt-ends of their muskets.  It was by a miracle that the shop-door escaped them.  If they had merely pushed against it, they would have seen that it was not shut, and would have entered.

A voice, probably the voice of an officer, cried out, “Light up the windows!” The soldiers swore.  We heard them say, “Where are those blackguard Reds?  Let us search the houses.”  The ambulance was plunged in darkness.  Not a word was spoken, not a breath could be heard; even the dying man, as though he divined the danger, had ceased to gurgle.  I felt the little girl pressing herself against my legs.