________________________________________________
_ The night wind had risen, which indicated that it must be between
one and two o'clock in the morning. Poor Cosette said nothing.
As she had seated herself beside him and leaned her head against him,
Jean Valjean had fancied that she was asleep. He bent down and
looked at her. Cosette's eyes were wide open, and her thoughtful
air pained Jean Valjean.
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 Thenardier."
Jean Valjean had already forgotten the means which he had employed
to make 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
more keen every instant. The goodman took off his coat and wrapped
it round Cosette.
"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
better shelter. He came across doors, but they were closed.
There were bars at all the windows of the ground floor.
Just after he had turned the inner angle of the edifice, he observed
that he was coming to some arched windows, where he perceived a light.
He stood on tiptoe and peeped through one of these windows.
They all opened on a tolerably vast hall, paved with large flagstones,
cut up by arcades and pillars, where only a tiny light and great
shadows were visible. The light came from a taper which was
burning in one corner. The apartment was deserted, and nothing
was stirring in it. Nevertheless, by dint of gazing intently he
thought he perceived on the ground something which appeared to be
covered with a winding-sheet, and which resembled a human form.
This form was lying face downward, flat on the pavement, with the
arms extended in the form of a cross, in the immobility of death.
One would have said, judging from a sort of serpent which undulated
over the floor, that this sinister form had a rope round its neck.
The whole chamber was bathed in that mist of places which are
sparely illuminated, which adds to horror.
Jean Valjean often said afterwards, that, although many funereal
spectres had crossed his path in life, he had never beheld anything more
blood-curdling and terrible than that enigmatical form accomplishing
some inexplicable mystery in that gloomy place, and beheld thus
at night. It was alarming to suppose that that thing was perhaps dead;
and still more alarming to think that it was perhaps alive.
He had the courage to plaster his face to the glass, and to watch whether
the thing would move. In spite of his remaining thus what seemed
to him a very long time, the outstretched form made no movement.
All at once he felt himself overpowered by an inexpressible terror,
and he fled. 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 form following him with great strides and waving
its arms.
He reached the ruin all out of breath. His knees were giving way
beneath him; the perspiration was pouring from him.
Where was he? Who could ever have imagined anything like that sort
of sepulchre in the midst of Paris! What was this strange house?
An edifice full of nocturnal mystery, calling to souls through the
darkness with the voice of angels, and when they came, offering them
abruptly that terrible vision; promising to open the radiant portals
of heaven, and then opening the horrible gates of the tomb! And it
actually was an edifice, 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 a genuine fever, and all these ideas were clashing together
in his brain.
He stepped up to Cosette. She was asleep. _
Read next: VOLUME II - COSETTE: BOOK FIFTH - FOR A BLACK HUNT, A MUTE PACK: HAPTER VIII. The Enigma becomes Doubly Mysterious
Read previous: VOLUME II - COSETTE: BOOK FIFTH - FOR A BLACK HUNT, A MUTE PACK: HAPTER VI. The Beginning of an Enigma
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