CHAPTER IV.
THE CHILD ASTONISHES THE OLD MAN.
On reaching St. Jean market, the post at which had been disarmedalready, Gavroche proceeded "to effect his junction" with a band ledby Enjolras, Courfeyrac, Combeferre, and Feuilly. They were all moreor less armed, and Bahorel and Prouvaire had joined them, and swelledthe group. Enjolras had a double-barrelled fowling-piece, Combeferrea National Guard's musket bearing the number of a legion, and in hiswaist-belt two pistols, which his unbuttoned coat allowed to be seen;Jean Prouvaire an old cavalry carbine, and Bahorel a rifle; Courfeyracbrandished a sword drawn from a cane, while Feuilly with a naked sabrein his hand walked along shouting. "Long live Poland! They reached theQuai Morland without neck-cloths or hats, panting for breath, drenchedwith rain, but with lightning in their eyes. Gavroche calmly approachedthem,--
"Where are we going?"
"Come," said Courfeyrac.
Behind Feuilly marched or rather bounded Bahorel, a fish in the waterof revolt. He had a crimson waistcoat, and uttered words which smasheverything. His waistcoat upset a passer-by, who cried wildly, "Hereare the reds!"
"The reds, the reds!" Bahorel answered; "that's a funny fear, citizen.For my part, I do not tremble at a poppy, and the little red cap doesnot inspire me with any terror. Citizen, believe me, we had betterleave a fear of the red to horned cattle."
He noticed a corner wall, on which was placarded the most peacefulpiece of paper in the world, a permission to eat eggs, a Lentmandamus addressed by the Archbishop of Paris to his "flock." Bahorelexclaimed,--
"A flock! a polite way of saying geese." And he tore the paper down.This conquered Gavroche, and from this moment he began studying Bahorel.
"Bahorel," Enjolras observed, "you are wrong; you should have leftthat order alone, for we have nothing to do with it, and you uselesslyexpended your anger. Keep your stock by you; a man does not fire out ofthe ranks any more with his mind than with his gun."
"Every man has his own way, Enjolras," Bahorel replied; "the bishop'sprose offends me, and I insist on eating eggs without receivingpermission to do so. Yours is the cold burning style, while I amusemyself; moreover, I am not expending myself, but getting the steam up,and if I tore that order down, Hercle! it is to give me an appetite."
This word _hercle_ struck Gavroche, for he sought every opportunity ofinstructing himself, and this tearing down of posters possessed hisesteem. Hence he asked,--
"What's the meaning of _hercle?_"
Bahorel answered,--
"It means cursed name of a dog in latin."
Here Bahorel noticed at a window a pale young man, with a black beard,who was watching them pass, probably a Friend of the A. B. C He shoutedto him,--
"Quick with the cartridges, _para bellum!_"
"A handsome man [bel homme], that's true," said Gavroche, who nowcomprehended Latin.
A tumultuous crowd accompanied them,--students, artists, young menaffiliated to the Cougourde of Aix, artisans, and lightermen, armedwith sticks and bayonets, and some, like Combeferre, with pistolspassed through their trouser-belt. An old man, who appeared very aged,marched in this band; he had no weapon, and hurried on, that he mightnot be left behind, though he looked thoughtful. Gavroche perceived him.
"Keksekça?" said he to Courfeyrac.
"That is an antique."
It was M. Mabœuf.