Book the Second - the Golden Thread
21. XXI. Echoing Footsteps
(continued)
"Eh, well! Here you see me!" said madame, composed as ever, but not
knitting to-day. Madame's resolute right hand was occupied with an axe,
in place of the usual softer implements, and in her girdle were a pistol
and a cruel knife.
"Where do you go, my wife?"
"I go," said madame, "with you at present. You shall see me at the
head of women, by-and-bye."
"Come, then!" cried Defarge, in a resounding voice. "Patriots and
friends, we are ready! The Bastille!"
With a roar that sounded as if all the breath in France had been
shaped into the detested word, the living sea rose, wave on wave,
depth on depth, and overflowed the city to that point. Alarm-bells
ringing, drums beating, the sea raging and thundering on its new beach,
the attack began.
Deep ditches, double drawbridge, massive stone walls, eight great
towers, cannon, muskets, fire and smoke. Through the fire and through
the smoke--in the fire and in the smoke, for the sea cast him up against
a cannon, and on the instant he became a cannonier--Defarge of the
wine-shop worked like a manful soldier, Two fierce hours.
Deep ditch, single drawbridge, massive stone walls, eight great towers,
cannon, muskets, fire and smoke. One drawbridge down! "Work, comrades
all, work! Work, Jacques One, Jacques Two, Jacques One Thousand,
Jacques Two Thousand, Jacques Five-and-Twenty Thousand; in the name of
all the Angels or the Devils--which you prefer--work!" Thus Defarge
of the wine-shop, still at his gun, which had long grown hot.
"To me, women!" cried madame his wife. "What! We can kill as well as
the men when the place is taken!" And to her, with a shrill thirsty cry,
trooping women variously armed, but all armed alike in hunger and revenge.
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