This was said in the bar-room close to Javert's post.
"Well," Combeferre continued, "I will fasten a handkerchief to my cane, and go as a flag of truce to offer to give them their man for our man."
"Listen," said Enjolras, as he laid his hand on Combeferre's arm.
There was a meaning click of guns at the end of the street, and a manly voice could be heard crying,—
"Long live France! Long live the future!"
They recognized Prouvaire's voice; a flash passed and a detonation burst forth; then the silence returned.
"They have killed him," Combeferre exclaimed.
Enjolras looked at Javert and said to him,—
"Your friends have just shot you."