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Que la paix enfin nous rallie! Plus d'ingrats ni de mecontens, O triomphe de la patrie! Plus de Francais indifferens. bis. "Revenez phalanges guerrieres, Heros vengeurs de mon pays, Au sein d'une epouse, d'un pere, De vos parens, de vos amis, Revenez dans votre patrie Apres tant d'effrayans hazards, Trouver ce qui charme la vie, L'amitie, l'amour, et les arts. bis.
Cornudet saw the discomfort he was creating, and whistled the louder; sometimes he even hummed the words: Amour sacre de la patrie, Conduis, soutiens, nos bras vengeurs, Liberte, liberte cherie, Combats avec tes defenseurs!
Decidedly the popular song did not please his neighbors. They became nervous, fidgety, and seemed ready to howl like dogs that hear a barrel-organ. He noticed it, did not stop. At times he even pronounced the words: Amour sacre del la patrie, Conduis, soutiens, nos bras vengeurs, Liberte, liberte cherie, Combats avec tes defenseurs.
Raoul Rigault was busy, with his corps of Vengeurs de Flourens, getting through as many executions as possible; Félix Pyat was organizing underground explosions, Ferré, the destruction of public buildings.
Meantime another bunch of keys was found, and the executioners, led by Ferré, Lolive, and Mégy, that member of the Commune whom none of them seemed to know, hurried upstairs. In the crowd were gamins and women, National Guards, Garibaldians, and others, but chiefly the Vengeurs de Flourens, a corps of which an Englishman who served the Commune said: "They were to a man all blackguards."
Her little round mouth was wide open, yelling menaces and obscenities, as she brandished a revolver. The Vengeurs de Lutèce, hard-pressed and dispirited, looked stolidly at their white-faced prisoner against the wall, and then looked in each other's faces.
Red uniforms appeared on the Quai de l'École. The Pont-au-Change was thick with fédérés. Not knowing where to fly, he was for going back into the prison; but a body of Vengeurs de Lutèce, in full flight, drove him before their bayonets towards the Pont-au-Change. A woman, a cantinière, kept shouting: "Don't let him go, give him his gruel. He's a Versaillais."
But the Vengeurs de Lutèce had not much heart left; their leader had vanished; they were disorganized, they were running away; sobered and stupefied, they knew the game was up. They were quite willing all the same to shoot the bourgeois there at the wall, before bolting for covert, each to hide in his own hole.
Cornudet saw the discomfort he was creating, and whistled the louder; sometimes he even hummed the words: Amour sacre de la patrie, Conduis, soutiens, nos bras vengeurs, Liberte, liberte cherie, Combats avec tes defenseurs!
Jean tried to say: "Don't make me suffer more than need be!" but his voice stuck in his throat. One of the Vengeurs cast a look in the direction of the Pont-au-Change and saw that the fédérés were losing ground. Shouldering his musket, he said: "Let's clear out of the bl y place, by God!" The men hesitated; some began to slink away. At this the cantinière shrieked: "Bl sted hounds!
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