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Without paying any attention to Canet's objections Manousse set out to find Christophe on the barricade. He did not stop, but went through with it. When he reached the barricade he found Christophe, perched on a wheel of the overturned omnibus, amusing himself by firing pistol-shots into the air.
I'll try and take him away." "How?" "In Canet's motor. It's over there at the corner of the street." "Please, please...." gulped Canet. "You must take him to Laroche," Manousse went on. "You will get there in time to catch the Pontarlier express. You must pack him off to Switzerland." "He won't go." "He will. I'll tell him that Jeannin will follow him, or has already gone."
The worthy Canet would have been bitterly sorry if Christophe had been caught, but he would have much preferred some one else to help him to escape. Manousse knew his man. And as he had some qualms about Canet's cowardice, he changed his mind just as he was leaving them and the car was getting into its stride and climbed up and sat with them. Olivier did not recover consciousness.
His fervent friends were growing aggressive, their hardy pretensions were increasing: they alarmed Canet's fundamental egoism, his deeply rooted sense of propriety, his middle-class pusillanimity. He dared not ask: "Where are you taking me to?"
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