CHAPTER VII.
THE RECRUIT OF THE RUE DES BILLETTES.
Night had quite set in, and nothing occurred, only confused rumorsand fusillades now and then could be heard, but they were rare,badly maintained, and distant. This respite, which was prolonged,was a sign that the Government was taking its time and collectingits strength. These fifty men were waiting for the coming of sixtythousand. Enjolras was attacked by that impatience which seizes onpowerful minds when they stand on the threshold of formidable events.He looked up Gavroche, who was busy manufacturing cartridges in theground-floor room by the dubious light of two candles placed on the barfor precaution, on account of the gunpowder sprinkled over the tables.These two candles threw no rays outside, and the insurgents allowedno light in the upper floors. Gavroche was at this moment greatlyoccupied, though not precisely with his cartridge.
The recruit from the Rue des Billettes had come into the room andseated himself at the least-lighted table. A Brown Bess of the largemodel had fallen to his share, and he held it between his legs.Gavroche up to this moment, distracted by a hundred "amusing" things,had not even seen this man. When he entered, gavotte looked after him,mechanically admiring his musket, but when the man was seated the gaminsuddenly rose. Those who might have watched this man would have noticedhim observe everything in the barricade, and the band of insurgentswith singular attention; but when he entered the room he fell into astate of contemplation, and seemed to see nothing of what was going on.The gamin approached this pensive man, and began walking round him ontiptoe, in the same way as people move round a man whom they are afraidof awaking. At the same time all the grimaces of an old man passed overhis childish face, at once so impudent and so serious, so giddy andso profound, so gay and so affecting, and these grimaces signified,"Oh, stuff! it is not possible, I must see double--I am dreaming--canit be?--no, it is not--yes, it is--no, it is not." Gavroche balancedhimself on his heels, clenched his fists in his pockets, moved hisneck like a bird, and expended on an enormously outstretched lip allthe sagacity of a lower lip. He was stupefied, uncertain, convinced,and dazzled. He had the look of the chief of the eunuchs at theslave-market discovering a Venus among the girls, and the air of anamateur recognizing a Raphael in a pile of daubs. All about him wasat work the instinct that scents and the intellect that combines; itwas plain that an event was happening to Gavroche. It was when he wasdeepest in thought that Enjolras accosted him.
"You are little," he said, "and will not be seen. Go out of thebarricades, slip along the houses, pass through as many streets as youcan, and come back to tell me what is going on."
Gavroche drew himself up.
"So little ones are good for something! That's lucky! I'm off. In themean while, trust to the little and distrust the big;" and Gavroche,raising his head and dropping his voice, added, as he pointed to theman of the Rue des Billettes,--
"You see that tall fellow?"
"Well?"
"He's a spy."
"Are you sure?"
"Not a fortnight back he pulled me down by the ear from the cornice ofthe Pont Royal where I was taking the air."
Enjolras hurriedly left the gamin and whispered a few words to alaborer from the wine-docks who was present. The laborer went out andreturned almost immediately, followed by three others. The four men,four broad-shouldered porters, stationed themselves silently behind thetable at which the man of the Rue des Billettes was seated, in evidentreadiness to fall upon him, and then Enjolras walked up to the man andasked him,--
"Who are you?"
At this sudden question the man started; he looked into the depths ofEnjolras's candid eyeballs, and seemed to read his thoughts. He gave asmile, which was at once the most disdainful, energetic, and resolutepossible, and answered, with a haughty gravity,--
"I see what you mean,--well, yes!"
"Are you a spy?"
"I am an agent of the authority!"
"And your name is--"
"Javert."
Enjolras gave the four men a sign, and in a twinkling, before Javerthad time to turn round, he was collared, thrown down, bound, andsearched. They found on him a small round card fixed between two piecesof glass, and bearing on one side the arms of France, with the motto,"Surveillance and vigilance," and on the other this notice, "JAVERT,Police Inspector, fifty-two years of age," and the signature of thePrefect of Police of that day, M. Gisquet. He had also a watch, and apurse containing some pieces of gold, and both were left him. Behindhis watch at the bottom of his fob a paper was found, which Enjolrasunfolded, and on which he read these lines, written by the Prefect ofPolice himself:--
"So soon as his political mission is concluded, Javert will assurehimself by a special watch whether it is true that criminals assembleon the slope of the right bank of the Seine, near the bridge of Jena."
When the search was ended, Javert was raised from the ground, his armswere tied behind his back, and he was fastened in the middle of theroom to the celebrated post which in olden times gave its name to thewine-shop. Gavroche, who had watched the whole scene and approved ofeverything with a silent shake of the head, went up to Javert, andsaid,--
"The mouse has trapped the cat."
All this took place so quickly that it was completed before thoseoutside the wine-shop were aware of it. Javert had not uttered acry, but on seeing him fastened to the post, Courfeyrac, Bossuet,Combeferre, Joly, and the men scattered over the two barricades,flocked in. Javert, who was surrounded with cords so that he could notstir, raised his head with the intrepid serenity of a man who has nevertold a falsehood.
"It is a spy," said Enjolras; and turning to Javert, "You will be shottwo minutes before the barricade is taken."
Javert replied, with his most imperious accent,--
"Why not at once?"
"We are saving of powder."
"Then settle the affair with a knife."
"Spy," said the beautiful Enjolras, "we are judges, and not assassins."
Then he called Gavroche.
"You be off now and do what I told you."
"I am off," Gavroche cried, but stopped just as he reached the door.
"By the way, you will give me his gun. I leave you the musician, but Iwant his clarinet."
The gamin gave a military salute, and gayly slipped round the largebarricade.