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Updated: June 18, 2025
His clothing cost him a hundred francs, his linen fifty francs, his washing fifty francs; the whole did not exceed six hundred and fifty francs. He was rich. He sometimes lent ten francs to a friend. Courfeyrac had once been able to borrow sixty francs of him. As far as fire was concerned, as Marius had no fireplace, he had "simplified matters."
In the meantime, in the Marche Saint-Jean, where the post had already been disarmed, Gavroche had just "effected a junction" with a band led by Enjolras, Courfeyrac, Combeferre, and Feuilly. They were armed after a fashion. Bahorel and Jean Prouvaire had found them and swelled the group.
Each struggled to determine which should not allow himself to be placed at the door of the tomb. "Make haste," said Courfeyrac, "in another quarter of an hour it will be too late." "Citizens," pursued Enjolras, "this is the Republic, and universal suffrage reigns. Do you yourselves designate those who are to go." They obeyed.
Courfeyrac, seated on a paving-stone beside Enjolras, continued to insult the cannon, and each time that that gloomy cloud of projectiles which is called grape-shot passed overhead with its terrible sound he assailed it with a burst of irony. "You are wearing out your lungs, poor, brutal, old fellow, you pain me, you are wasting your row. That's not thunder, it's a cough."
The morning breeze ruffled the gray hair on the head of the dead man at the third-story window. "I am delighted that the torch has been extinguished," said Courfeyrac to Feuilly. "That torch flickering in the wind annoyed me. It had the appearance of being afraid. The light of torches resembles the wisdom of cowards; it gives a bad light because it trembles."
One morning, however, Courfeyrac abruptly addressed this interrogation to him: "By the way, have you any political opinions?" "The idea!" said Marius, almost affronted by the question. "What are you?" "A democrat-Bonapartist." "The gray hue of a reassured rat," said Courfeyrac. On the following day, Courfeyrac introduced Marius at the Cafe Musain.
It was evident that they had to deal with an entire regiment at the very least. "Comrades!" shouted Courfeyrac, "let us not waste our powder. Let us wait until they are in the street before replying." "And, above all," said Enjolras, "let us raise the flag again." He picked up the flag, which had fallen precisely at his feet.
There she had waited for Marius, or at least for Courfeyrac, still for the purpose of seeing. When Courfeyrac had told her: "We are going to the barricades," an idea flashed through her mind, to fling herself into that death, as she would have done into any other, and to thrust Marius into it also.
There he had, so to speak, retreated into himself. He no longer seemed to look or to think. Courfeyrac and others had accosted him two or three times, warning him of his peril, beseeching him to withdraw, but he did not hear them.
It is my own fault," etc., etc. Courfeyrac, to whom he confided nothing, it was his nature, but who made some little guess at everything, that was his nature, had begun by congratulating him on being in love, though he was amazed at it; then, seeing Marius fall into this melancholy state, he ended by saying to him: "I see that you have been simply an animal. Here, come to the Chaumiere."
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