第36章

ThepursefellonFatherMabeuf’sfoot。Thiscommotionrousedhim。

Hebentoverandpickedupthepurse。

Hedidnotunderstandintheleast，andopenedit。

Thepursehadtwocompartments；inoneofthemtherewassomesmallchange；intheotherlaysixnapoleons。

M。Mabeuf，ingreatalarm，referredthemattertohishousekeeper。

"Thathasfallenfromheaven，"saidMotherPlutarque。

BOOKFIFTH。——THEENDOFWHICHDOESNOTRESEMBLETHEBEGINNING

CHAPTERI

SOLITUDEANDTHEBARRACKSCOMBINED

Cosette’sgrief，whichhadbeensopoignantandlivelyfourorfivemonthspreviously，had，withoutherbeingconsciousofthefact，entereduponitsconvalescence。Nature，spring，youth，loveforherfather，thegayetyofthebirdsandflowers，causedsomethingalmostresemblingforgetfulnesstofiltergradually，dropbydrop，intothatsoul，whichwassovirginandsoyoung。Wasthefirewhollyextinctthere？Orwasitmerelythatlayersofasheshadformed？

Thetruthis，thatshehardlyfeltthepainfulandburningspotanylonger。

OnedayshesuddenlythoughtofMarius:"Why！"saidshe，"Inolongerthinkofhim。"

Thatsameweek，shenoticedaveryhandsomeofficeroflancers，withawasp—likewaist，adeliciousuniform，thecheeksofayounggirl，aswordunderhisarm，waxedmustaches，andaglazedschapka，passingthegate。Moreover，hehadlighthair，prominentblueeyes，aroundface，wasvain，insolentandgood—looking；quitethereverseofMarius。Hehadacigarinhismouth。CosettethoughtthatthisofficerdoubtlessbelongedtotheregimentinbarracksintheRuedeBabylone。

Onthefollowingday，shesawhimpassagain。Shetooknoteofthehour。

Fromthattimeforth，wasitchance？shesawhimpassnearlyeveryday。

Theofficer’scomradesperceivedthattherewas，inthat"badlykept"

garden，behindthatmaliciousrococofence，averyprettycreature，whowasalmostalwaystherewhenthehandsomelieutenant，——whoisnotunknowntothereader，andwhosenamewasTheoduleGillenormand，——

passedby。

"Seehere！"theysaidtohim，"there’salittlecreaturetherewhoismakingeyesatyou，look。"

"HaveIthetime，"repliedthelancer，"tolookatallthegirlswholookatme？"

ThiswasattheprecisemomentwhenMariuswasdescendingheavilytowardsagony，andwassaying:"IfIcouldbutseeherbeforeIdie！"——

Hadhiswishbeenrealized，hadhebeheldCosetteatthatmomentgazingatthelancer，hewouldnothavebeenabletoutteraword，andhewouldhaveexpiredwithgrief。

Whosefaultwasit？Noone’s。

Mariuspossessedoneofthosetemperamentswhichburythemselvesinsorrowandthereabide；Cosettewasoneofthosepersonswhoplungeintosorrowandemergefromitagain。

Cosettewas，moreover，passingthroughthatdangerousperiod，thefatalphaseoffemininereveryabandonedtoitself，inwhichtheisolatedheartofayounggirlresemblesthetendrilsofthevinewhichcling，aschancedirects，tothecapitalofamarblecolumnortothepostofawine—shop:Arapidanddecisivemoment，criticalforeveryorphan，besherichorpoor，forwealthdoesnotpreventabadchoice；misalliancesaremadeinveryhighcircles，realmisallianceisthatofsouls；andasmanyanunknownyoungman，withoutname，withoutbirth，withoutfortune，isamarblecolumnwhichbearsupatempleofgrandsentimentsandgrandideas，sosuchandsuchamanoftheworldsatisfiedandopulent，whohaspolishedbootsandvarnishedwords，iflookedatnotoutside，butinside，athingwhichisreservedforhiswife，isnothingmorethanablockobscurelyhauntedbyviolent，unclean，andvinouspassions；

thepostofadrinking—shop。

WhatdidCosette’ssoulcontain？Passioncalmedorlulledtosleep；

somethinglimpid，brilliant，troubledtoacertaindepth，andgloomylowerdown。Theimageofthehandsomeofficerwasreflectedinthesurface。Didasouvenirlingerinthedepths？——

Quiteatthebottom？——Possibly。Cosettedidnotknow。

Asingularincidentsupervened。

CHAPTERII

COSETTE’SAPPREHENSIONS

DuringthefirstfortnightinApril，JeanValjeantookajourney。

This，asthereaderknows，happenedfromtimetotime，atverylongintervals。Heremainedabsentadayortwodaysattheutmost。

Wheredidhego？Nooneknew，notevenCosette。Onceonly，ontheoccasionofoneofthesedepartures，shehadaccompaniedhiminahackney—coachasfarasalittleblind—alleyatthecornerofwhichsheread:ImpassedelaPlanchette。Therehealighted，andthecoachtookCosettebacktotheRuedeBabylone。ItwasusuallywhenmoneywaslackinginthehousethatJeanValjeantooktheselittletrips。

SoJeanValjeanwasabsent。Hehadsaid:"Ishallreturninthreedays。"

Thatevening，Cosettewasaloneinthedrawing—room。Inordertogetridofherennui，shehadopenedherpiano—organ，andhadbeguntosing，accompanyingherselfthewhile，thechorusfromEuryanthe:

"Huntersastrayinthewood！"whichisprobablythemostbeautifulthinginallthesphereofmusic。Whenshehadfinished，sheremainedwrappedinthought。

Allatonce，itseemedtoherthatsheheardthesoundoffootstepsinthegarden。

Itcouldnotbeherfather，hewasabsent；itcouldnotbeToussaint，shewasinbed，anditwasteno’clockatnight。

Shesteppedtotheshutterofthedrawing—room，whichwasclosed，andlaidherearagainstit。

Itseemedtoherthatitwasthetreadofaman，andthathewaswalkingverysoftly。

Shemountedrapidlytothefirstfloor，toherownchamber，openedasmallwicketinhershutter，andpeepedintothegarden。

Themoonwasatthefull。Everythingcouldbeseenasplainlyasbyday。

Therewasnoonethere。

Sheopenedthewindow。Thegardenwasabsolutelycalm，andallthatwasvisiblewasthatthestreetwasdesertedasusual。

Cosettethoughtthatshehadbeenmistaken。Shethoughtthatshehadheardanoise。ItwasahallucinationproducedbythemelancholyandmagnificentchorusofWeber，whichlaysopenbeforethemindterrifieddepths，whichtremblesbeforethegazelikeadizzyforest，andinwhichonehearsthecracklingofdeadbranchesbeneaththeuneasytreadofthehuntsmenofwhomonecatchesaglimpsethroughthetwilight。

Shethoughtnomoreaboutit。

Moreover，Cosettewasnotverytimidbynature。Thereflowedinherveinssomeofthebloodofthebohemianandtheadventuresswhorunsbarefoot。Itwillberememberedthatshewasmoreofalarkthanadove。Therewasafoundationofwildnessandbraveryinher。

Onthefollowingday，atanearlierhour，towardsnightfall，shewasstrollinginthegarden。Inthemidstoftheconfusedthoughtswhichoccupiedher，shefanciedthatshecaughtforaninstantasoundsimilartothatoftheprecedingevening，asthoughsomeonewerewalkingbeneaththetreesinthedusk，andnotveryfarfromher；

butshetoldherselfthatnothingsocloselyresemblesasteponthegrassasthefrictionoftwobrancheswhichhavemovedfromsidetoside，andshepaidnoheedtoit。Besides，shecouldseenothing。

Sheemergedfrom"thethicket"；shehadstilltocrossasmalllawntoregainthesteps。

Themoon，whichhadjustrisenbehindher，castCosette’sshadowinfrontofheruponthislawn，asshecameoutfromtheshrubbery。

Cosettehaltedinalarm。

Besidehershadow，themoonoutlineddistinctlyupontheturfanothershadow，whichwasparticularlystartlingandterrible，ashadowwhichhadaroundhat。

Itwastheshadowofaman，whomusthavebeenstandingontheborderoftheclumpofshrubbery，afewpacesintherearofCosette。

Shestoodforamomentwithoutthepowertospeak，orcry，orcall，orstir，orturnherhead。

Thenshesummonedupallhercourage，andturnedroundresolutely。

Therewasnoonethere。

Sheglancedontheground。Thefigurehaddisappeared。

Shere—enteredthethicket，searchedthecornersboldly，wentasfarasthegate，andfoundnothing。

Shefeltherselfabsolutelychilledwithterror。Wasthisanotherhallucination？What！Twodaysinsuccession！

Onehallucinationmightpass，buttwohallucinations？

Thedisquietingpointaboutitwas，thattheshadowhadassuredlynotbeenaphantom。Phantomsdonotwearroundhats。

OnthefollowingdayJeanValjeanreturned。Cosettetoldhimwhatshethoughtshehadheardandseen。Shewantedtobereassuredandtoseeherfathershrughisshouldersandsaytoher:

"Youarealittlegoose。"

JeanValjeangrewanxious。

"Itcannotbeanything，"saidhe。

Heleftherundersomepretext，andwentintothegarden，andshesawhimexaminingthegatewithgreatattention。

Duringthenightshewokeup；thistimeshewassure，andshedistinctlyheardsomeonewalkingclosetotheflightofstepsbeneathherwindow。

Sherantoherlittlewicketandopenedit。Inpointoffact，therewasamaninthegarden，withalargeclubinhishand。

Justasshewasabouttoscream，themoonlighteduptheman’sprofile。

Itwasherfather。Shereturnedtoherbed，sayingtoherself:

"Heisveryuneasy！"

JeanValjeanpassedthatnightandthetwosucceedingnightsinthegarden。Cosettesawhimthroughtheholeinhershutter。

Onthethirdnight，themoonwasonthewane，andhadbeguntoriselater；atoneo’clockinthemorning，possibly，sheheardaloudburstoflaughterandherfather’svoicecallingher:——

"Cosette！"

Shejumpedoutofbed，threwonherdressing—gown，andopenedherwindow。

Herfatherwasstandingonthegrass—plotbelow。

"Ihavewakedyouforthepurposeofreassuringyou，"saidhe；

"look，thereisyourshadowwiththeroundhat。"

Andhepointedouttoherontheturfashadowcastbythemoon，andwhichdidindeed，bearconsiderableresemblancetothespectreofamanwearingaroundhat。Itwastheshadowproducedbyachimney—pipeofsheetiron，withahood，whichroseaboveaneighboringroof。

Cosettejoinedinhislaughter，allherlugubrioussuppositionswereallayed，andthenextmorning，asshewasatbreakfastwithherfather，shemademerryoverthesinistergardenhauntedbytheshadowsofironchimney—pots。

JeanValjeanbecamequitetranquiloncemore；asforCosette，shedidnotpaymuchattentiontothequestionwhetherthechimney—potwasreallyinthedirectionoftheshadowwhichshehadseen，orthoughtshehadseen，andwhetherthemoonhadbeeninthesamespotinthesky。

Shedidnotquestionherselfastothepeculiarityofachimney—potwhichisafraidofbeingcaughtintheact，andwhichretireswhensomeonelooksatitsshadow，fortheshadowhadtakenthealarmwhenCosettehadturnedround，andCosettehadthoughtherselfverysureofthis。Cosette’sserenitywasfullyrestored。

Theproofappearedtohertobecomplete，anditquitevanishedfromhermind，whethertherecouldpossiblybeanyonewalkinginthegardenduringtheeveningoratnight。

Afewdayslater，however，afreshincidentoccurred。

CHAPTERIII

ENRICHEDWITHCOMMENTARIESBYTOUSSAINT

Inthegarden，neartherailingonthestreet，therewasastonebench，screenedfromtheeyesofthecuriousbyaplantationofyoke—elms，butwhichcould，incaseofnecessity，bereachedbyanarmfromtheoutside，pastthetreesandthegate。

OneeveningduringthatsamemonthofApril，JeanValjeanhadgoneout；Cosettehadseatedherselfonthisbenchaftersundown。

Thebreezewasblowingbrisklyinthetrees，Cosettewasmeditating；

anobjectlesssadnesswastakingpossessionofherlittlebylittle，thatinvinciblesadnessevokedbytheevening，andwhicharises，perhaps，whoknows，fromthemysteryofthetombwhichisajaratthathour。

PerhapsFantinewaswithinthatshadow。

Cosetterose，slowlymadethetourofthegarden，walkingonthegrassdrenchedindew，andsayingtoherself，throughthespeciesofmelancholysomnambulisminwhichshewasplunged:

"Really，oneneedswoodenshoesforthegardenatthishour。

Onetakescold。"

Shereturnedtothebench。

Asshewasabouttoresumeherseatthere，sheobservedonthespotwhichshehadquitted，atolerablylargestonewhichhad，evidently，notbeenthereamomentbefore。

Cosettegazedatthestone，askingherselfwhatitmeant。Allatoncetheideaoccurredtoherthatthestonehadnotreachedthebenchallbyitself，thatsomeonehadplaceditthere，thatanarmhadbeenthrustthroughtherailing，andthisideaappearedtoalarmher。

Thistime，thefearwasgenuine；thestonewasthere。Nodoubtwaspossible；shedidnottouchit，fledwithoutglancingbehindher，tookrefugeinthehouse，andimmediatelyclosedwithshutter，bolt，andbarthedoor—likewindowopeningontheflightofsteps。

SheinquiredofToussaint:——

"Hasmyfatherreturnedyet？"

"Notyet，Mademoiselle。"

[WehavealreadynotedonceforallthefactthatToussaintstuttered。

Maywebepermittedtodispensewithitforthefuture。Themusicalnotationofaninfirmityisrepugnanttous。]

JeanValjean，athoughtfulman，andgiventonocturnalstrolls，oftenreturnedquitelateatnight。

"Toussaint，"wentonCosette，"areyoucarefultothoroughlybarricadetheshuttersopeningonthegarden，atleastwithbars，intheevening，andtoputthelittleironthingsinthelittleringsthatclosethem？"

"Oh！beeasyonthatscore，Miss。"

Toussaintdidnotfailinherduty，andCosettewaswellawareofthefact，butshecouldnotrefrainfromadding:——

"Itissosolitaryhere。"

"Sofarasthatisconcerned，"saidToussaint，"itistrue。

Wemightbeassassinatedbeforewehadtimetosayouf！

AndMonsieurdoesnotsleepinthehouse，toboot。

Butfearnothing，Miss，Ifastentheshuttersuplikeprisons。

Lonewomen！Thatisenoughtomakeoneshudder，Ibelieveyou！

Justimagine，whatifyouweretoseemenenteryourchamberatnightandsay:`Holdyourtongue！’andbegintocutyourthroat。

It’snotthedyingsomuch；youdie，foronemustdie，andthat’sallright；it’stheabominationoffeelingthosepeopletouchyou。

Andthen，theirknives；theycan’tbeabletocutwellwiththem！

Ah，goodgracious！"

"Bequiet，"saidCosette。"Fasteneverythingthoroughly。"

Cosette，terrifiedbythemelodramaimprovisedbyToussaint，andpossibly，also，bytherecollectionoftheapparitionsofthepastweek，whichrecurredtohermemory，darednotevensaytoher:

"Goandlookatthestonewhichhasbeenplacedonthebench！"

forfearofopeningthegardengateandallowing"themen"toenter。

Shesawthatallthedoorsandwindowswerecarefullyfastened，madeToussaintgoalloverthehousefromgarrettocellar，lockedherselfupinherownchamber，boltedherdoor，lookedunderhercouch，wenttobedandsleptbadly。Allnightlongshesawthatbigstone，aslargeasamountainandfullofcaverns。

Atsunrise，——thepropertyoftherisingsunistomakeuslaughatallourterrorsofthepastnight，andourlaughterisindirectproportiontoourterrorwhichtheyhavecaused，——atsunriseCosette，whenshewoke，viewedherfrightasanightmare，andsaidtoherself:

"WhathaveIbeenthinkingof？ItislikethefootstepsthatI

thoughtIheardaweekortwoagointhegardenatnight！

Itisliketheshadowofthechimney—pot！AmIbecomingacoward？"

Thesun，whichwasglowingthroughthecrevicesinhershutters，andturningthedamaskcurtainscrimson，reassuredhertosuchanextentthateverythingvanishedfromherthoughts，eventhestone。

"Therewasnomoreastoneonthebenchthantherewasamaninaroundhatinthegarden；Idreamedaboutthestone，asIdidalltherest。"

Shedressedherself，descendedtothegarden，rantothebench，andbrokeoutinacoldperspiration。Thestonewasthere。

Butthislastedonlyforamoment。Thatwhichisterrorbynightiscuriositybyday。

"Bah！"saidshe，"come，letusseewhatitis。"

Sheliftedthestone，whichwastolerablylarge。Beneathitwassomethingwhichresembledaletter。Itwasawhiteenvelope。

Cosetteseizedit。Therewasnoaddressononeside，nosealontheother。Yettheenvelope，thoughunsealed，wasnotempty。

Paperscouldbeseeninside。

Cosetteexaminedit。Itwasnolongeralarm，itwasnolongercuriosity；

itwasabeginningofanxiety。

Cosettedrewfromtheenvelopeitscontents，alittlenotebookofpaper，eachpageofwhichwasnumberedandboreafewlinesinaveryfineandratherprettyhandwriting，asCosettethought。

Cosettelookedforaname；therewasnone。Towhomwasthisaddressed？

Toher，probably，sinceahandhaddepositedthepacketonherbench。

Fromwhomdiditcome？Anirresistiblefascinationtookpossessionofher；shetriedtoturnawayhereyesfromtheleafletswhichweretremblinginherhand，shegazedatthesky，thestreet，theacaciasallbathedinlight，thepigeonsflutteringoveraneighboringroof，andthenherglancesuddenlyfelluponthemanuscript，andshesaidtoherselfthatshemustknowwhatitcontained。

Thisiswhatsheread。

CHAPTERIV

AHEARTBENEATHASTONE

Thereductionoftheuniversetoasinglebeing，theexpansionofasinglebeingeventoGod，thatislove。

Loveisthesalutationoftheangelstothestars。

Howsadisthesoul，whenitissadthroughlove！

Whatavoidintheabsenceofthebeingwho，byherselfalonefillstheworld！Oh！howtrueitisthatthebelovedbeingbecomesGod。

OnecouldcomprehendthatGodmightbejealousofthishadnotGodtheFatherofallevidentlymadecreationforthesoul，andthesoulforlove。

Theglimpseofasmilebeneathawhitecrapebonnetwithalilaccurtainissufficienttocausethesoultoenterintothepalaceofdreams。

Godisbehindeverything，buteverythinghidesGod。Thingsareblack，creaturesareopaque。Toloveabeingistorenderthatbeingtransparent。

Certainthoughtsareprayers。Therearemomentswhen，whatevertheattitudeofthebodymaybe，thesoulisonitsknees。

Partedloversbeguileabsencebyathousandchimericaldevices，whichpossess，however，arealityoftheirown。Theyarepreventedfromseeingeachother，theycannotwritetoeachother；

theydiscoveramultitudeofmysteriousmeanstocorrespond。

Theysendeachotherthesongofthebirds，theperfumeoftheflowers，thesmilesofchildren，thelightofthesun，thesighingsofthebreeze，theraysofstars，allcreation。Andwhynot？

AlltheworksofGodaremadetoservelove。Loveissufficientlypotenttochargeallnaturewithitsmessages。

OhSpring！ThouartaletterthatIwritetoher。

Thefuturebelongstoheartsevenmorethanitdoestominds。

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