Page 2019 - les-miserables
P. 2019
‘Yes,’ replied Combeferre, ‘he is mine too. Well, let us not
kill him.’
‘Let me alone. It must be done.’
And a tear trickled slowly down Enjolras’ marble cheek.
At the same moment, he pressed the trigger of his rifle.
The flame leaped forth. The artillery-man turned round
twice, his arms extended in front of him, his head uplift-
ed, as though for breath, then he fell with his side on the
gun, and lay there motionless. They could see his back, from
the centre of which there flowed directly a stream of blood.
The ball had traversed his breast from side to side. He was
dead.
He had to be carried away and replaced by another. Sev-
eral minutes were thus gained, in fact.
2019
