THE PRINTER. Yes, under the ground. [_He lies down, with his ear to the ground_.] THE OTHER. You're dreaming! THE WORKINGMAN [_lying down_]. Sounds like mining. THE OTHER. Good Lord, they're going to blow us up! THE CARPENTER [_incredulously_]. Nonsense! THE WORKINGMAN [_still on the ground_]. They've hidden millions of pounds of powder there. THE OTHER WORKINGMAN. That's why we can't find any. THE CARPENTER. Do you think an army can go about underground like rats? THE WORKINGMAN [_still on the ground_]. They've got underground passages leading from the Bastille to Vincennes. THE CARPENTER. Fairy tales! THE OTHER WORKINGMAN [_rising_]. I'll have a look in the cellar, anyway. Are you coming with me, Camuset? [_They both go into a house._] THE CARPENTER [_laughing_]. In the cellar? Ha, ha! They're looking for a pretext to wet their whistles! Now, let's finish our work. THE MASON [_looking behind him as he works_]. Good God! THE CARPENTER. What's wrong? THE MASON [_looking toward the Bastille_], That--that! Every time I look at that thing, it weighs down on my back--that Bastille! It catches in my throat. THE CARPENTER. One looks under ground, and the other in the air. Don't look around; go on with your work. THE MASON. Makes no difference: I feel it. Like as if some one was standing behind me, with his fist raised ready to hit me.--Good God! THE VOICE OF A BOURGEOIS. He is right: we are watched by cannon. What good is all this going to do us? In a flash it could knock that all down like a house of cards. CARPENTER. Oh, no. THE MASON [_pointing toward the Bastille_], You damned monster! When are we going to get rid of you! THE CARPENTER. Soon. OTHERS. You think so?--How? THE CARPENTER. I don't know, but it's so. Courage, now! It's a long lane that has no turning. [_They set to work again._] THE APPRENTICE. Meantime, we can't see a thing. THE CARPENTER [_shouting toward the houses_]. Hey, up there! You women, look to your candles! We've got to see tonight! A WOMAN [_at a window, re-lighting candles_]. How is everything getting along? THE CARPENTER. Well, more than one will leave his carcass here before they get past. THE WOMAN. Are they coming soon? THE CARPENTER. They say Grenelle is running with blood. You can hear shots from the Vaugirard section. THE OLD BOURGEOIS. They are waiting for daylight before entering. THE MASON. What time is it? THE WOMAN. Three. Listen, the cocks are crowing. THE MASON [_wiping his brow with his sleeve_]. Got to hurry! Lord, how hot it is! THE CARPENTER. So much the better. THE OLD BOURGEOIS. I can't do another stroke. THE CARPENTER. Rest a little, Monsieur. Nobody need work any more than he can. THE OLD BOURGEOIS [_bringing a paving-block_]. I want to put this in place, though. THE CARPENTER. Take it easier. If you can't gallop, trot. THE WOMAN, Have you got your muskets yet?