CHAPTER VI.
DEATH'S AGONY AFTER LIFE'S AGONY.
It is a singularity of this sort of war, that the attack on barricadesis almost always made in the front, and that the assailants generallyrefrain from turning positions, either because they suspect ambuscades,or are afraid to enter winding streets. The whole attention of theinsurgents was, consequently, directed to the great barricade, whichwas evidently the constantly threatened point, and the contest wouldinfallibly recommence there. Marius, however, thought of the littlebarricade, and went to it; it was deserted, and only guarded by thelamp which flickered among the paving-stones. However, the Mondétourlane and the branches of the Little Truanderie were perfectly calm. AsMarius, after making his inspection, was going back, he heard his namefaintly uttered in the darkness,--
"Monsieur Marius!"
He started, for he recognized the voice which had summoned him twohours back through the garden railings in the Rue Plumet, but thisvoice now only seemed to be a gasp; he looked around him and sawnobody. Marius fancied that he was mistaken, and that it was anillusion added by his mind to the extraordinary realities which werepressing round him. He took a step to leave the remote angle in whichthe barricade stood.
"Monsieur Marius!" the voice repeated; this time he could not doubt,for he had heard distinctly; he looked around but saw nothing.
"At your feet," the voice said.
He stooped down, and saw in the shadow a form crawling toward him onthe pavement. It was the speaker. The lamp enabled him to distinguisha blouse, torn cotton-velvet trousers, bare feet, and something thatresembled a pool of blood; Marius also caught a glimpse of a pale faceraised to him, and saying,--
"Do you not recognize me?"
"No."
"Éponine."
Marius eagerly stooped down; it was really that hapless girl, dressedin male clothes.
"What brought you here? What are you doing?"
"Dying," she said to him.
There are words and incidents that wake up crushed beings; Marius criedwith a start,--
"You are wounded! Wait, I will carry you into the wine-shop! Your woundwill be dressed! Is it serious? How shall I catch hold of you so as notto hurt you? Where is it you suffer? Help, good God! But what did youcome to do here?"
And he tried to pass his hand under her to lift her, and as he did sohe touched her hand; she uttered a faint cry.
"Have I hurt you?" Marius asked.
"A little."
"But I only touched your hand."
She raised her hand to Marius's eyes, and he could see a hole rightthrough it.
"What is the matter with your hand?" he said.
"It is pierced."
"Pierced?"
"Yes."
"What with?"
"A bullet."
"How?"
"Did you see a musket aimed at you?"
"Yes, and a hand laid on the muzzle."
"It was mine."
Marius shuddered.
"What madness! poor child! But all the better; if that is your wound,it is nothing, so let me carry you to a bed. Your wound will bedressed, and people do not die of a bullet through the hand."
She murmured,--
"The bullet passed through my hand but came out of my back, so it isuseless to move me from here. I will tell you how you can do me moregood than a surgeon; sit down by my side on that stone."
He obeyed; she laid her head on his knees, and without looking at him,said,--
"Oh, how good that is, how comforting! See, I no longer suffer!"
She remained silent for a moment, then turned her head with an effortand gazed at Marius.
"Do you know this, Monsieur Marius? It annoyed me that you entered thatgarden, though it was very foolish of me, as I showed you the house;and then, too, I ought to have remembered that a young gentleman likeyou--"
She broke off, and leaping over the gloomy transitions which her minddoubtless contained, she added with a heart-rending smile,--
"You thought me ugly, did you not?"
Then she continued,--
"You are lost, and no one will leave the barricade now. I brought youhere, you know, and you are going to die, I feel sure of it. And yet,when I saw the soldier aiming at you, I laid my hand on the muzzle ofhis gun. How droll that is! But the reason was that I wished to diewith you. When I received that bullet I dragged myself here, and as noone saw me I was not picked up. I waited for you and said, 'Will he notcome?' Oh, if you only knew how I bit my blouse, for I was suffering soterribly! But now I feel all right. Do you remember the day when I cameinto your room and looked at myself in your glass, and the day when Imet you on the boulevard near the washerwomen? How the birds sang! andit is not so very long ago. You gave me five francs, and I said to you,'I do not want your money.' I hope you picked up your coin, for you arenot rich, and I did not think of telling you to pick it up. The sun wasshining and it was not at all cold. Do you remember, Monsieur Marius?Oh, I am so happy, for everybody is going to die!"
She had a wild, grave, and heart-rending look, and her ragged blousedisplayed her naked throat. While speaking, she laid her wounded handon her chest, in which there was another hole, and whence every momenta stream of blood spirted like a jet of wine from an open bung. Mariusgazed at this unfortunate creature with profound compassion.
"Oh," she suddenly continued, "it is coming back! I suffocate!"
She raised her blouse and bit it, and her limbs stiffened on thepavement. At this moment Gavroche's crowing voice could be heard fromthe barricade: the lad had got on to a table to load his musket, andwas gayly singing the song so popular at that day,--
"En voyant Lafayette, Le gendarme répète: Sauvons-nous! sauvons-nous! sauvons-nous!"
Éponine raised herself and listened; then she muttered,--
"It is he."
And, turning to Marius, added,--
"My brother is here, but he must not see me, or he would scold me."
"Your brother?" Marius asked, as he thought most bitterly and sadly ofthe duties toward the Thénardiers which his father had left him; "whichis your brother?"
"That little fellow."
"The one who is singing?"
"Yes."
Marius made a move.
"Oh, do not go away!" she said; "it will not be long just now."
She was almost sitting up, but her voice was very low, and every nowand then interrupted by the death-rattle. She put her face as close asshe could to that of Marius, and added with a strange expression,--
"Come, I will not play you a trick: I have had a letter addressed toyou in my pocket since yesterday; I was told to put it in the post, butkept it, as I did not wish it to reach you. But perhaps you will notbe angry with me when we meet again ere long, for we shall meet again,shall we not? Take your letter."
She convulsively seized Marius's hand with her wounded hand, but seemedno longer to feel the suffering. She placed Marius's hand in her blousepocket, and he really felt a paper.
"Take it," she said.
Marius took the letter, and she gave a nod of satisfaction andconsolation.
"Now, for my trouble, promise me--"
And she stopped.
"What?" Marius asked.
"Promise me!"
"I do promise!"
"Promise to kiss me on the forehead when I am dead; I shall feel it."
She let her head fall again on Marius's knees and her eyes closed;he fancied the poor soul departed. Éponine remained motionless; butall at once, at the moment when Marius believed her eternally asleep,she slowly opened her eyes, on which the gloomy profundity of deathwas visible, and said to him with an accent whose gentleness seemedalready to come from another world,--
"And then, look you, Monsieur Marius, I think that I was a little inlove with you."
She tried to smile once more, and expired.