That was as far as Father Quandieu's intelligence went, stiffened by his obstinacy of military duty, his narrow skull, and eyes dimmed by the black melancholy of half a century spent underground. The men looked at him moved, feeling within them an echo of what he said, this military obedience, the sense of fraternity and resignation in danger. He saw that they were hesitating still, and repeated:
"I'm damned if I don't fling myself down the shaft before you!"
A great recoil carried away the mob. They all turned, and in the rush took the right-hand road, which stretched far away through the fields. Again cries arose:
"To Madeleine! To Crévecœur! no more work! Bread! bread!"
But in the centre, as they went on, there was hustling. It was Chaval, they said, who was trying to take advantage
