It is the masterpiece of powerful minds to save themselves by what has ruined them; and Gavroche measured the whole situation at a glance. It was the truck that had compromised him, and so the truck must now protect him. At the moment when the sergeant was going to rush on Gavroche, the truck, converted into a projectile and launched at full speed, rolled upon him furiously, and the sergeant, struck in the stomach, fell back into the gutter, while his musket was discharged in the air. On hearing their sergeant's cry, the guard hurried forth pell-mell; the shot produced a general discharge blindly, after which the guns were reloaded, and they began again. This blindman's buff firing lasted a good quarter of an hour, and killed sundry panes of glass. In the mean while, Gavroche, who had turned back, stopped five or six streets off, and sat down panting on the bench at the corner of the Enfants Rouges, and listened. After breathing for a few minutes, he turned in the direction where the musketry was raging, raised his left hand to the level of his nose, and thrust it out thrice, while striking the back of his head with his right hand,--a sovereign gesture, in which the Parisian gamins have condensed French irony, and which is evidently effective, as it has already lasted more than half a century. This gayety was troubled by a bitter reflection. "Yes," he said, "I am delighted, I overflow with joy, I crack my sides, but I am losing my way, and shall be obliged to steer a roundabout course. I only hope I shall reach the barricade betimes." After saying this he ran off again, and while running asked himself, "Where was I?" and he began his song again, which gradually died out in the darkness of the streets. "Mais il reste encor des bastilles, Et je vais mettre le holà Dans l'ordre public que voilà. Où vont les belles filles, Lon la. "Quelqu'un veut-il jouer aux quilles? Tout l'ancien monde s'écroula, Quand la grosse boule roula. Où vont les belles filles, Lon la. "Vieux bon peuple, à coups de béquilles, Cassons ce Louvre où s'étala La monarchie en falbala. Où vont les belles filles, Lon la. "Nous en avons forcé les grilles, Le roi Charles-Dix ce jour-là Tenait mal, et se décolla. Où vont les belles filles, Lon la."