Enjolras had been to make a reconnaissance. He had made his way out through Mondetour lane， gliding along close to the houses.

The insurgents， we will remark， were full of hope. The manner in which they had repulsed the attack of the preceding night had caused them to almost disdain in advance the attack at dawn. They waited for it with a smile. They had no more doubt as to their success than as to their cause. Moreover， succor was， evidently， on the way to them. They reckoned on it. With that facility of triumphant prophecy which is one of the sources of strength in the French combatant， they divided the day which was at hand into three distinct phases. At six o'clock in the morning a regiment "which had been labored with，" would turn; at noon， the insurrection of all Paris; at sunset， revolution.

They heard the alarm bell of Saint-Merry， which had not been silent for an instant since the night before; a proof that the other barricade， the great one， Jeanne's， still held out.

All these hopes were exchanged between the different groups in a sort of gay and formidable whisper which resembled the warlike hum of a hive of bees.

Enjolras reappeared. He returned from his sombre eagle flight into outer darkness. He listened for a moment to all this joy with folded arms， and one hand on his mouth. Then， fresh and rosy in the growing whiteness of the dawn， he said:

"The whole army of Paris is to strike. A third of the army is bearing down upon the barricades in which you now are. There is the National Guard in addition. I have picked out the shakos of the fifth of the line， and the standard-bearers of the sixth legion. In one hour you will be attacked. As for the populace， it was seething yesterday， to-day it is not stirring. There is nothing to expect; nothing to hope for. Neither from a faubourg nor from a regiment. You are abandoned."

These words fell upon the buzzing of the groups， and produced on them the effect caused on a swarm of bees by the first drops of a storm. A moment of indescribable silence ensued， in which death might have been heard flitting by.

This moment was brief.

A voice from the obscurest depths of the groups shouted to Enjolras:

"So be it. Let us raise the barricade to a height of twenty feet， and let us all remain in it. Citizens， let us offer the protests of corpses. Let us show that， if the people abandon the republicans， the republicans do not abandon the people."

These words freed the thought of all from the painful cloud of individual anxieties. It was hailed with an enthusiastic acclamation.

No one ever has known the name of the man who spoke thus; he was some unknown blouse-wearer， a stranger， a man forgotten， a passing hero， that great anonymous， always mingled in human crises and in social geneses who， at a given moment， utters in a supreme fashion the decisive word， and who vanishes into the shadows after having represented for a minute， in a lightning flash， the people and God.

This inexorable resolution so thoroughly impregnated the air of the 6th of June， 1832， that， almost at the very same hour， on the barricade Saint-Merry， the insurgents were raising that clamor which has become a matter of history and which has been consigned to the documents in the case:--"What matters it whether they come to our assistance or not? Let us get ourselves killed here， to the very last man."

As the reader sees， the two barricades， though materially isolated， were in communication with each other.

安灼拉出去侦察了一番，他从蒙德都巷子出去，转弯抹角地沿着墙走。

看来这些起义者是充满了希望的。他们晚间打退了敌人的进攻，这使他们几乎在事先就蔑视凌晨的袭击。他们含笑以待，对自己的事业既不发生怀疑，也不怀疑自己的胜利。再说，还有一支援军肯定会来协助他们。他们对这支援军寄托着希望。法兰西战士的部分力量来自这种轻易预料胜利的信心，他们把即将开始的一天分成明显的三个阶段：早晨六点，一个“他们做过工作的”联队将倒戈；午时，全巴黎起义；黄昏时刻，革命爆发。

从昨晚起，圣美里教堂的钟声从没停止过，这证明那位让娜的大街垒仍在坚持着。

所有这些希望，以愉快而又可怕的低语从一组传到另一组，仿佛蜂窝中嗡嗡的作战声。

安灼拉又出现了。他在外面黑暗中作了一次老鹰式阴郁的巡视。他双臂交叉，一只手按在嘴上，听了听这种愉快的谈论。接着，在逐渐转白的晨曦中，他面色红润、精神饱满地说：

“整个巴黎的军队都出动了。三分之一的军队压在你们所在的这个街垒上，还有国民自卫军。我认出了正规军第五营的军帽和宪兵第六队的军旗。一个钟头以后你们就要遭到攻打。至于人民，昨天还很激奋，可是今晨却没有动静了。不用期待，毫无希望。既没有一个郊区能相互呼应，也没有一支联队来接应。你们被遗弃了。”

这些话落在人们的嗡嗡声中，象暴风雨的第一个雨点打在蜂群上。大家哑口无言。在一阵无法形容的沉默中，好象听到死神在飞翔。

这只是短促的一刹那。

在最后面的人群里，一个声音向安灼拉喊道：

“就算情形是这样，我们还是把街垒加到了二十尺高，我们坚持到底。公民们，让我们提出用尸体来抗议。我们要表示，虽然人民抛弃共和党人，共和党人是不会背离人民的。”

这几句话，从个人的忧心忡忡里道出了大伙的想法，受到了热情的欢呼。

大家始终不知道讲这话的人叫什么名字，这是一个身穿工作服的无名小卒，一个陌生人，一个被遗忘的人，一个过路英雄，在人类的危境和社会的开创中，经常会有这样的无名伟人，他在一定的时刻，以至高无上的形式，说出决定性的言语，如同电光一闪，刹那间他代表了人民和上帝，此后就在黑暗中消失了。

这种不可动摇的坚定意志，散布在一八三二年六月六日的空气里，几乎同时，在圣美里街垒中，起义者也发出了这一具有历史意义并载入史册的呼声：“不管有没有人来支援我们，我们就在这儿拼到底，直到最后一人。”

我们可以看到，这两个街垒虽然分处两地，但却又互通声气。