Part 235 (1/2)
She remained silent for a moment, then she turned her face with an effort, and looked at Marius.
”Do you know what, Monsieur Marius? It puzzled me because you entered that garden; it was stupid, because it was I who showed you that house; and then, I ought to have said to myself that a young man like you--”
She paused, and overstepping the sombre transitions that undoubtedly existed in her mind, she resumed with a heartrending smile:--
”You thought me ugly, didn't you?”
She continued:--
”You see, you are lost! Now, no one can get out of the barricade. It was I who led you here, by the way! You are going to die, I count upon that.
And yet, when I saw them taking aim at you, I put my hand on the muzzle of the gun. How queer it is! But it was because I wanted to die before you. When I received that bullet, I dragged myself here, no one saw me, no one picked me up, I was waiting for you, I said: 'So he is not coming!' Oh, if you only knew. I bit my blouse, I suffered so! Now I am well. Do you remember the day I entered your chamber and when I looked at myself in your mirror, and the day when I came to you on the boulevard near the washerwomen? How the birds sang! That was a long time ago. You gave me a hundred sous, and I said to you: 'I don't want your money.' I hope you picked up your coin? You are not rich. I did not think to tell you to pick it up. The sun was s.h.i.+ning bright, and it was not cold. Do you remember, Monsieur Marius? Oh! How happy I am! Every one is going to die.”
She had a mad, grave, and heart-breaking air. Her torn blouse disclosed her bare throat.
As she talked, she pressed her pierced hand to her breast, where there was another hole, and whence there spurted from moment to moment a stream of blood, like a jet of wine from an open bung-hole.
Marius gazed at this unfortunate creature with profound compa.s.sion.
”Oh!” she resumed, ”it is coming again, I am stifling!”
She caught up her blouse and bit it, and her limbs stiffened on the pavement.
At that moment the young c.o.c.k's crow executed by little Gavroche resounded through the barricade.
The child had mounted a table to load his gun, and was singing gayly the song then so popular:--
”En voyant Lafayette, ”On beholding Lafayette, Le gendarme repete:-- The gendarme repeats:-- Sauvons nous! sauvons nous! Let us flee! let us flee!
sauvons nous!” let us flee!
Eponine raised herself and listened; then she murmured:--
”It is he.”
And turning to Marius:--
”My brother is here. He must not see me. He would scold me.”
”Your brother?” inquired Marius, who was meditating in the most bitter and sorrowful depths of his heart on the duties to the Thenardiers which his father had bequeathed to him; ”who is your brother?”
”That little fellow.”
”The one who is singing?”
”Yes.”
Marius made a movement.