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sparing of their ammunition, and as the assailants know
this, the assailants combine their arrangements with a sort
of irritating leisure, expose themselves to fire prematurely,
though in appearance more than in reality, and take their
ease. The preparations for attack are always made with a
certain methodical deliberation; after which, the lightning
strikes.
This deliberation permitted Enjolras to take a review of
everything and to perfect everything. He felt that, since such
men were to die, their death ought to be a masterpiece.
He said to Marius: ‘We are the two leaders. I will give the
last orders inside. Do you remain outside and observe.’
Marius posted himself on the lookout upon the crest of
the barricade.
Enjolras had the door of the kitchen, which was the am-
bulance, as the reader will remember, nailed up.
‘No splashing of the wounded,’ he said.
He issued his final orders in the tap-room in a curt, but
profoundly tranquil tone; Feuilly listened and replied in the
name of all.
‘On the first floor, hold your axes in readiness to cut the
staircase. Have you them?’
‘Yes,’ said Feuilly.
‘How many?’
‘Two axes and a pole-axe.’
‘That is good. There are now twenty-six combatants of us
on foot. How many guns are there?’
‘Thirty-four.’
‘Eight too many. Keep those eight guns loaded like the