This formed an indifferent barricade, very low, too short, and which left the pavements free on either side.
At this moment a staff officer passed by followed by an orderly, saw the barricade, and fled at a gallop.
Schoelcher calmly inspected the overturned vehicles. When he reached the peasant's cart, which made a higher heap than the others, he said, "that is the only good one."
The barricade grew larger. They threw a few empty baskets upon it, which made it thicker and larger without strengthening it.
They were still working when a child came up to them shouting, "The soldiers!"
In truth two companies arrived from the Bastille, at the double, through the Faubourg, told off in squads at short distances apart, and barring the whole of the street.
The doors and the windows were hastily closed.
During this time, at a corner of the barricade, Bastide, impassive, was gravely telling a story to Madier de Montjau. "Madier," said he, "nearly two hundred years ago the Prince de Condé, ready to give battle in this very Faubourg St. Antoine, where we now are, asked an officer who was accompanying him, 'Have you ever seen a battle lost?'—'No, sire.' 'Well, then, you will see one now.'—Madier, I tell you to-day,—you will speedily see a barricade taken."
In the meanwhile those who were armed had assumed their places for the conflict behind the barricade.
The critical moment drew nigh.