eleven
o’clock
In the evening , without knowing how he had got there , still dazed and horrified as he was by the terrible scenes of the afternoon , he had found himself at a wine shop in the Rue Montorgueil , where several men were drinking and talking of throwing up barricades . He went away with them , helped them to tear up a few paving-stones , and seated himself on the barricade , weary with his long wandering through the streets , and reflecting that he would fight when the soldiers came up . However , he had not even a knife with him , and was still bareheaded . Towards eleven o'clock he dozed off , and in his sleep could see the two holes in the dead woman 's white chemisette glaring at him like eyes reddened by tears and blood . When he awoke he found himself in the grasp of four police officers , who were pummelling him with their fists . The men who had built the barricade had fled . The police officers treated him with still greater violence , and indeed almost strangled him when they noticed that his hands were stained with blood .