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It was also evident that, if this barricade were carried, the entire
street would be scoured. The other barricades were still weaker than
the first, and more feebly defended. The "middle class" had given their
guns, and had re-entered their houses. They lent their street, that was
all.
It was therefore necessary to hold the advanced barricade as long as
possible. But what was to be done, and how was the resistance to be
maintained? They had scarcely two shots per man left.
An unexpected source of supply arrived.
A young man, I can name him, for he is dead--Pierre Tissié,[19] who was
a workman, and who also was a poet, had worked during a portion of the
morning at the barricades, and at the moment when the firing began he
went away, stating as his reason that they would not give him a gun. In
the barricade they had said, "There is one who is afraid."
Pierre Tissié was not afraid, as we shall see later on.
He left the barricade.
Pierre Tissié had only his knife with him, a Catalan knife; he opened
it at all hazards, he held it in his hand, and went on straight before
him.
As he came out of the Rue Saint Sauveur, he saw at the corner of a
little lonely street, in which all the windows were closed, a soldier
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