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and each threw into it what money he had about him. They collected in
this manner a few hundred francs.
Xavier Durrieu, whose fiery courage never flagged for a single moment,
reiterated that he would undertake the printing, and promised that by
eight o'clock that evening there should be 40,000 copies of the
Proclamation. Time pressed. They separated, after fixing as a rendezvous
the premises of the Society of Cabinet-makers in the Rue de Charonne, at
eight o'clock in the evening, so as to allow time for the situation to
reveal itself. As we went out and crossed the Rue Beautreillis I saw
Pierre Leroux coming up to me. He had taken no part in our meetings. He
said to me,--
"I believe this struggle to be useless. Although my point of view is
different from yours, I am your friend. Beware. There is yet time to
stop. You are entering into the catacombs. The catacombs are Death."
"
They are also Life," answered I.
All the same, I thought with joy that my two sons were in prison, and
that this gloomy duty of street fighting was imposed upon me alone.
There yet remained five hours until the time fixed for the rendezvous. I
wished to go home, and once more embrace my wife and daughter before
precipitating myself into that abyss of the "unknown" which was there,
yawning and gloomy, and which several of us were about to enter, never to
return.
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