Les Misérables, page 123
CHAPTER VII--CONTINUATION OF THE ENIGMA
The night wind had risen, which indicated that it must be between oneand two o'clock in the morning. Poor Cosette said nothing. As she hadseated herself beside him and leaned her head against him, Jean Valjeanhad fancied that she was asleep. He bent down and looked at her.Cosette's eyes were wide open, and her thoughtful air pained JeanValjean.
She was still trembling.
"Are you sleepy?" said Jean Valjean.
"I am very cold," she replied.
A moment later she resumed:--
"Is she still there?"
"Who?" said Jean Valjean.
"Madame Thénardier."
Jean Valjean had already forgotten the means which he had employed tomake Cosette keep silent.
"Ah!" said he, "she is gone. You need fear nothing further."
The child sighed as though a load had been lifted from her breast.
The ground was damp, the shed open on all sides, the breeze grew morekeen every instant. The goodman took off his coat and wrapped it roundCosette.
"Are you less cold now?" said he.
"Oh, yes, father."
"Well, wait for me a moment. I will soon be back."
He quitted the ruin and crept along the large building, seeking a bettershelter. He came across doors, but they were closed. There were bars atall the windows of the ground floor.
Just after he had turned the inner angle of the edifice, he observedthat he was coming to some arched windows, where he perceived a light.He stood on tiptoe and peeped through one of these windows. They allopened on a tolerably vast hall, paved with large flagstones, cut upby arcades and pillars, where only a tiny light and great shadows werevisible. The light came from a taper which was burning in onecorner. The apartment was deserted, and nothing was stirring in it.Nevertheless, by dint of gazing intently he thought he perceived on theground something which appeared to be covered with a winding-sheet, andwhich resembled a human form. This form was lying face downward, flaton the pavement, with the arms extended in the form of a cross, in theimmobility of death. One would have said, judging from a sort of serpentwhich undulated over the floor, that this sinister form had a rope roundits neck.
The whole chamber was bathed in that mist of places which are sparelyilluminated, which adds to horror.
Jean Valjean often said afterwards, that, although many funerealspectres had crossed his path in life, he had never beheld anything moreblood-curdling and terrible than that enigmatical form accomplishingsome inexplicable mystery in that gloomy place, and beheld thus atnight. It was alarming to suppose that that thing was perhaps dead; andstill more alarming to think that it was perhaps alive.
He had the courage to plaster his face to the glass, and to watchwhether the thing would move. In spite of his remaining thus what seemedto him a very long time, the outstretched form made no movement. Allat once he felt himself overpowered by an inexpressible terror, and hefled. He began to run towards the shed, not daring to look behind him.It seemed to him, that if he turned his head, he should see that formfollowing him with great strides and waving its arms.
He reached the ruin all out of breath. His knees were giving way beneathhim; the perspiration was pouring from him.
Where was he? Who could ever have imagined anything like that sort ofsepulchre in the midst of Paris! What was this strange house? An edificefull of nocturnal mystery, calling to souls through the darkness withthe voice of angels, and when they came, offering them abruptly thatterrible vision; promising to open the radiant portals of heaven, andthen opening the horrible gates of the tomb! And it actually was anedifice, a house, which bore a number on the street! It was not a dream!He had to touch the stones to convince himself that such was the fact.
Cold, anxiety, uneasiness, the emotions of the night, had given him agenuine fever, and all these ideas were clashing together in his brain.
He stepped up to Cosette. She was asleep.
