Part 210 (1/2)
When his eyes fell again, he saw Cosette smiling at him. The smile of a woman whom one loves possesses a visible radiance, even at night.
”How silly we are! Marius, I have an idea.”
”What is it?”
”If we go away, do you go too! I will tell you where! Come and join me wherever I am.”
Marius was now a thoroughly roused man. He had fallen back into reality.
He cried to Cosette:--
”Go away with you! Are you mad? Why, I should have to have money, and I have none! Go to England? But I am in debt now, I owe, I don't know how much, more than ten louis to Courfeyrac, one of my friends with whom you are not acquainted! I have an old hat which is not worth three francs, I have a coat which lacks b.u.t.tons in front, my s.h.i.+rt is all ragged, my elbows are torn, my boots let in the water; for the last six weeks I have not thought about it, and I have not told you about it. You only see me at night, and you give me your love; if you were to see me in the daytime, you would give me a sou! Go to England! Eh! I haven't enough to pay for a pa.s.sport!”
He threw himself against a tree which was close at hand, erect, his brow pressed close to the bark, feeling neither the wood which flayed his skin, nor the fever which was throbbing in his temples, and there he stood motionless, on the point of falling, like the statue of despair.
He remained a long time thus. One could remain for eternity in such abysses. At last he turned round. He heard behind him a faint stifled noise, which was sweet yet sad.
It was Cosette sobbing.
She had been weeping for more than two hours beside Marius as he meditated.
He came to her, fell at her knees, and slowly prostrating himself, he took the tip of her foot which peeped out from beneath her robe, and kissed it.
She let him have his way in silence. There are moments when a woman accepts, like a sombre and resigned G.o.ddess, the religion of love.
”Do not weep,” he said.
She murmured:--
”Not when I may be going away, and you cannot come!”
He went on:--
”Do you love me?”
She replied, sobbing, by that word from paradise which is never more charming than amid tears:--
”I adore you!”
He continued in a tone which was an indescribable caress:--
”Do not weep. Tell me, will you do this for me, and cease to weep?”
”Do you love me?” said she.
He took her hand.
”Cosette, I have never given my word of honor to any one, because my word of honor terrifies me. I feel that my father is by my side. Well, I give you my most sacred word of honor, that if you go away I shall die.”
In the tone with which he uttered these words there lay a melancholy so solemn and so tranquil, that Cosette trembled. She felt that chill which is produced by a true and gloomy thing as it pa.s.ses by. The shock made her cease weeping.
”Now, listen,” said he, ”do not expect me to-morrow.”