However, the reactionary forces counted their numbers, and the smallness of the total filled them with hesitation.  They were only thirty-nine all told, and this adventure would mean certain death for them.  A father of a family spoke of his children; others, without troubling themselves about excuses, turned towards the door.  Then, however, two fresh conspirators arrived, who lived in the neighbourhood of the Town Hall, and knew for certain that there were not more than about twenty Republicans still at the mayor’s.  The band thereupon deliberated afresh.  Forty-one against twenty—­these seemed practicable conditions.  So the arms were distributed amid a little trembling.  It was Rougon who took them from the boxes, and each man present, as he received his gun, the barrel of which on that December night was icy cold, felt a sudden chill freeze him to his bones.  The shadows on the walls assumed the clumsy postures of bewildered conscripts stretching out their fingers.  Pierre closed the boxes regretfully; he left there a hundred and nine guns which he would willingly have distributed; however, he now had to divide the cartridges.  Of these, there were two large barrels full in the furthest corner of the cart-shed, sufficient to defend Plassans against an army.  And as this corner was dark, one of the gentlemen brought the taper near, whereupon another conspirator—­a burly pork-butcher, with immense fists—­grew angry, declaring that it was most imprudent to bring a light so close.  They strongly approved his words, so the cartridges were distributed in the dark.  They completely filled their pockets with them.  Then, after they had loaded their guns, with endless precautions, they lingered there for another moment, looking at each other with suspicious eyes, or exchanging glances in which cowardly ferocity was mingled with an expression of stupidity.

In the streets they kept close to the houses, marching silently and in single file, like savages on the war-path.  Rougon had insisted upon having the honour of marching at their head; the time had come when he must needs run some risk, if he wanted to see his schemes successful.  Drops of perspiration poured down his forehead in spite of the cold.  Nevertheless he preserved a very martial bearing.  Roudier and Granoux were immediately behind him.  Upon two occasions the column came to an abrupt halt.  They fancied they had heard some distant sound of fighting; but it was only the jingle of the little brass shaving-dishes hanging from chains, which are used as signs by the barbers of Southern France.  These dishes were gently shaking to and fro in the breeze.  After each halt, the saviours of Plassans continued their stealthy march in the dark, retaining the while the mien of terrified heroes.  In this manner they reached the square in front of the Town Hall.  There they formed a group round Rougon, and took counsel together once more.  In the facade of the building in front of them only one window was lighted.  It was now nearly seven o’clock and the dawn was approaching.