Part 285 (1/2)
It was as though a ray of sunlight should have suddenly traversed the night, without itself being conscious of it.
Marius made sure that the door was securely closed.
”Poor Cosette!” he murmured, ”when she finds out ...”
At that word Jean Valjean trembled in every limb. He fixed on Marius a bewildered eye.
”Cosette! oh yes, it is true, you are going to tell Cosette about this.
That is right. Stay, I had not thought of that. One has the strength for one thing, but not for another. Sir, I conjure you, I entreat now, sir, give me your most sacred word of honor, that you will not tell her. Is it not enough that you should know it? I have been able to say it myself without being forced to it, I could have told it to the universe, to the whole world,--it was all one to me. But she, she does not know what it is, it would terrify her. What, a convict! we should be obliged to explain matters to her, to say to her: 'He is a man who has been in the galleys.' She saw the chain-gang pa.s.s by one day. Oh! My G.o.d!” ... He dropped into an arm-chair and hid his face in his hands.
His grief was not audible, but from the quivering of his shoulders it was evident that he was weeping. Silent tears, terrible tears.
There is something of suffocation in the sob. He was seized with a sort of convulsion, he threw himself against the back of the chair as though to gain breath, letting his arms fall, and allowing Marius to see his face inundated with tears, and Marius heard him murmur, so low that his voice seemed to issue from fathomless depths:
”Oh! would that I could die!”
”Be at your ease,” said Marius, ”I will keep your secret for myself alone.” And, less touched, perhaps, than he ought to have been, but forced, for the last hour, to familiarize himself with something as unexpected as it was dreadful, gradually beholding the convict superposed before his very eyes, upon M. Fauchelevent, overcome, little by little, by that lugubrious reality, and led, by the natural inclination of the situation, to recognize the s.p.a.ce which had just been placed between that man and himself, Marius added:
”It is impossible that I should not speak a word to you with regard to the deposit which you have so faithfully and honestly remitted. That is an act of probity. It is just that some recompense should be bestowed on you. Fix the sum yourself, it shall be counted out to you. Do not fear to set it very high.”
”I thank you, sir,” replied Jean Valjean, gently.
He remained in thought for a moment, mechanically pa.s.sing the tip of his fore-finger across his thumb-nail, then he lifted up his voice:
”All is nearly over. But one last thing remains for me ...”
”What is it?”
Jean Valjean struggled with what seemed a last hesitation, and, without voice, without breath, he stammered rather than said:
”Now that you know, do you think, sir, you, who are the master, that I ought not to see Cosette any more?”
”I think that would be better,” replied Marius coldly.
”I shall never see her more,” murmured Jean Valjean. And he directed his steps towards the door.
He laid his hand on the k.n.o.b, the latch yielded, the door opened. Jean Valjean pushed it open far enough to pa.s.s through, stood motionless for a second, then closed the door again and turned to Marius.
He was no longer pale, he was livid. There were no longer any tears in his eyes, but only a sort of tragic flame. His voice had regained a strange composure.
”Stay, sir,” he said. ”If you will allow it, I will come to see her. I a.s.sure you that I desire it greatly. If I had not cared to see Cosette, I should not have made to you the confession that I have made, I should have gone away; but, as I desired to remain in the place where Cosette is, and to continue to see her, I had to tell you about it honestly. You follow my reasoning, do you not? it is a matter easily understood. You see, I have had her with me for more than nine years. We lived first in that hut on the boulevard, then in the convent, then near the Luxembourg. That was where you saw her for the first time. You remember her blue plush hat. Then we went to the Quartier des Invalides, where there was a railing on a garden, the Rue Plumet. I lived in a little back court-yard, whence I could hear her piano. That was my life. We never left each other. That lasted for nine years and some months. I was like her own father, and she was my child. I do not know whether you understand, Monsieur Pontmercy, but to go away now, never to see her again, never to speak to her again, to no longer have anything, would be hard. If you do not disapprove of it, I will come to see Cosette from time to time. I will not come often. I will not remain long. You shall give orders that I am to be received in the little waiting-room. On the ground floor. I could enter perfectly well by the back door, but that might create surprise perhaps, and it would be better, I think, for me to enter by the usual door. Truly, sir, I should like to see a little more of Cosette. As rarely as you please. Put yourself in my place, I have nothing left but that. And then, we must be cautious. If I no longer come at all, it would produce a bad effect, it would be considered singular. What I can do, by the way, is to come in the afternoon, when night is beginning to fall.”
”You shall come every evening,” said Marius, ”and Cosette will be waiting for you.”
”You are kind, sir,” said Jean Valjean.
Marius saluted Jean Valjean, happiness escorted despair to the door, and these two men parted.
CHAPTER II--THE OBSCURITIES WHICH A REVELATION CAN CONTAIN
Marius was quite upset.