Lucile [in an undertone]. What are you doing there?
Desmoulins. It's a fort to defend you. [They look at each other and smile.]
Lucile. I can't stay any longer. My people are here.
Desmoulins. Just one moment!
Lucile. Later. When every one has gone. [Lucile listens.] They're calling me. Wait. [She blows a kiss at him and disappears.]
The Mason [looking at the barricade]. There, that's done—and well done, I may say.
The Carpenter [slapping Desmoulins on the shoulder]. Don't work too hard: you'll come down with pleurisy.
Desmoulins. Each one has his work, comrade. After all, this barricade here is the result of my talk.
The Mason. What are you talking about?
The Carpenter. Do you work with your voice?
Desmoulins. Was neither of you at the Palais-Royal yesterday?
The Crowd. The Palais-Royal?—Listen to that!—Are you the little fellow who called us to arms, and gave us our cockades? Are you Monsieur Desmoulins? Wonderful speech!—How well you spoke! I cried! Fine little fellow!—Monsieur Desmoulins, let me shake hands with you!—Long live Monsieur Desmoulins! Long live our little Camille!
Gonchon [enters, in the uniform of a Captain of the Bourgeois Militia, followed by his patrol.] What the
