1876 Les Miserables
and iron stays, a genuine prison postern. The blows from
the butt end of the gun made the house tremble, but did not
shake the door.
Nevertheless, it is probable that the inhabitants were dis-
turbed, for a tiny, square window was finally seen to open
on the third story, and at this aperture appeared the rever-
end and terrified face of a gray-haired old man, who was the
porter, and who held a candle.
The man who was knocking paused.
‘Gentlemen,’ said the porter, ‘what do you want?’
‘Open!’ said Cabuc.
‘That cannot be, gentlemen.’
‘Open, nevertheless.’
‘Impossible, gentlemen.’
Le Cabuc took his gun and aimed at the porter; but as
he was below, and as it was very dark, the porter did not
see him.
‘Will you open, yes or no?’
‘No, gentlemen.’
‘Do you say no?’
‘I say no, my goo—‘
The porter did not finish. The shot was fired; the ball en-
tered under his chin and came out at the nape of his neck,
after traversing the jugular vein.
The old man fell back without a sigh. The candle fell and
was extinguished, and nothing more was to be seen except a
motionless head lying on the sill of the small window, and a
little whitish smoke which floated off towards the roof.
‘There!’ said Le Cabuc, dropping the butt end of his gun