Page 2102 - les-miserables

‘He is the leader! It was he who slew the artillery-man.
It is well that he has placed himself there. Let him remain
there. Let us shoot him down on the spot.’
‘Shoot me,’ said Enjolras.
And flinging away his bit of gun-barrel, and folding his
arms, he offered his breast.
The audacity of a fine death always affects men. As soon
as Enjolras folded his arms and accepted his end, the din of
strife ceased in the room, and this chaos suddenly stilled
into a sort of sepulchral solemnity. The menacing majesty
of Enjolras disarmed and motionless, appeared to oppress
this tumult, and this young man, haughty, bloody, and
charming, who alone had not a wound, who was as indif-
ferent as an invulnerable being, seemed, by the authority of
his tranquil glance, to constrain this sinister rabble to kill
him respectfully. His beauty, at that moment augmented by
his pride, was resplendent, and he was fresh and rosy after
the fearful four and twenty hours which had just elapsed,
as though he could no more be fatigued than wounded. It
was of him, possibly, that a witness spoke afterwards, before
the council of war: ‘There was an insurgent whom I heard
called Apollo.’ A National Guardsman who had taken aim
at Enjolras, lowered his gun, saying: ‘It seems to me that I
am about to shoot a flower.’
Twelve men formed into a squad in the corner opposite
Enjolras, and silently made ready their guns.
Then a sergeant shouted:
‘Take aim!’
An officer intervened.

2102 Les Miserables