Withthatmachineonmyhead，IhavetheairofMadameMad—dog。"
　　JeanValjeanheavedadeepsigh。
　　Fromthatmomentforth，henoticedthatCosette，whohadalwaysheretoforeaskedtoremainathome，saying:"Father，Ienjoymyselfmoreherewithyou，"nowwasalwaysaskingtogoout。Infact，whatistheuseofhavingahandsomefaceandadeliciouscostumeifonedoesnotdisplaythem？
　　HealsonoticedthatCosettehadnolongerthesametasteforthebackgarden。Nowshepreferredthegarden，anddidnotdisliketopromenadebackandforthinfrontoftherailedfence。
　　JeanValjean，whowasshy，neversetfootinthegarden。
　　Hekepttohisbackyard，likeadog。
　　Cosette，ingainingtheknowledgethatshewasbeautiful，lostthegraceofignoringit。Anexquisitegrace，forbeautyenhancedbyingenuousnessisineffable，andnothingissoadorableasadazzlingandinnocentcreaturewhowalksalong，holdinginherhandthekeytoparadisewithoutbeingconsciousofit。Butwhatshehadlostiningenuousgrace，shegainedinpensiveandseriouscharm。
　　Herwholeperson，permeatedwiththejoyofyouth，ofinnocence，andofbeauty，breathedforthasplendidmelancholy。
　　ItwasatthisepochthatMarius，afterthelapseofsixmonths，sawheroncemoreattheLuxembourg。
　　CHAPTERVI
　　THEBATTLEBEGUN
　　Cosetteinhershadow，likeMariusinhis，wasallreadytotakefire。
　　Destiny，withitsmysteriousandfatalpatience，slowlydrewtogetherthesetwobeings，allchargedandalllanguishingwiththestormyelectricityofpassion，thesetwosoulswhichwereladenwithloveastwocloudsareladenwithlightning，andwhichwereboundtooverflowandmingleinalooklikethecloudsinaflashoffire。
　　Theglancehasbeensomuchabusedinloveromancesthatithasfinallyfallenintodisrepute。Onehardlydarestosay，nowadays，thattwobeingsfellinlovebecausetheylookedateachother。
　　Thatisthewaypeopledofallinlove，nevertheless，andtheonlyway。Therestisnothing，buttherestcomesafterwards。
　　Nothingismorerealthanthesegreatshockswhichtwosoulsconveytoeachotherbytheexchangeofthatspark。
　　AtthatparticularhourwhenCosetteunconsciouslydartedthatglancewhichtroubledMarius，MariushadnosuspicionthathehadalsolaunchedalookwhichdisturbedCosette。
　　Hecausedherthesamegoodandthesameevil。
　　Shehadbeeninthehabitofseeinghimforalongtime，andshehadscrutinizedhimasgirlsscrutinizeandsee，whilelookingelsewhere。
　　MariusstillconsideredCosetteugly，whenshehadalreadybeguntothinkMariushandsome。Butashepaidnoattentiontoher，theyoungmanwasnothingtoher。
　　Still，shecouldnotrefrainfromsayingtoherselfthathehadbeautifulhair，beautifuleyes，handsometeeth，acharmingtoneofvoicewhensheheardhimconversingwithhiscomrades，thatheheldhimselfbadlywhenhewalked，ifyoulike，butwithagracethatwasallhisown，thathedidnotappeartobeatallstupid，thathiswholepersonwasnoble，gentle，simple，proud，andthat，inshort，thoughheseemedtobepoor，yethisairwasfine。
　　Onthedaywhentheireyesmetatlast，andsaidtoeachotherthosefirst，obscure，andineffablethingswhichtheglancelisps，Cosettedidnotimmediatelyunderstand。ShereturnedthoughtfullytothehouseintheRuedel’Ouest，whereJeanValjean，accordingtohiscustom，hadcometospendsixweeks。Thenextmorning，onwaking，shethoughtofthatstrangeyoungman，solongindifferentandicy，whonowseemedtopayattentiontoher，anditdidnotappeartoherthatthisattentionwastheleastintheworldagreeabletoher。
　　Shewas，onthecontrary，somewhatincensedatthishandsomeanddisdainfulindividual。Asubstratumofwarstirredwithinher。
　　Itstruckher，andtheideacausedherawhollychildishjoy，thatshewasgoingtotakeherrevengeatlast。
　　Knowingthatshewasbeautiful，shewasthoroughlyconscious，thoughinanindistinctfashion，thatshepossessedaweapon。
　　Womenplaywiththeirbeautyaschildrendowithaknife。
　　Theywoundthemselves。
　　ThereaderwillrecallMarius’hesitations，hispalpitations，histerrors。Heremainedonhisbenchanddidnotapproach。
　　ThisvexedCosette。Oneday，shesaidtoJeanValjean:
　　"Father，letusstrollaboutalittleinthatdirection。"
　　SeeingthatMariusdidnotcometoher，shewenttohim。Insuchcases，allwomenresembleMahomet。Andthen，strangetosay，thefirstsymptomoftrueloveinayoungmanistimidity；inayounggirlitisboldness。Thisissurprising，andyetnothingismoresimple。
　　Itisthetwosexestendingtoapproacheachotherandassuming，eachtheother’squalities。
　　Thatday，Cosette’sglancedroveMariusbesidehimself，andMarius’
　　glancesetCosettetotrembling。Mariuswentawayconfident，andCosetteuneasy。Fromthatdayforth，theyadoredeachother。
　　ThefirstthingthatCosettefeltwasaconfusedandprofoundmelancholy。
　　Itseemedtoherthathersoulhadbecomeblacksincethedaybefore。
　　Shenolongerrecognizedit。Thewhitenessofsoulinyounggirls，whichiscomposedofcoldnessandgayety，resemblessnow。Itmeltsinlove，whichisitssun。
　　Cosettedidnotknowwhatlovewas。Shehadneverheardthewordutteredinitsterrestrialsense。Onthebooksofprofanemusicwhichenteredtheconvent，amour（love）wasreplacedbytambour（drum）
　　orpandour。Thiscreatedenigmaswhichexercisedtheimaginationsofthebiggirls，suchas:Ah，howdelightfulisthedrum！or，Pityisnotapandour。ButCosettehadlefttheconventtooearlytohaveoccupiedherselfmuchwiththe"drum。"Therefore，shedidnotknowwhatnametogivetowhatshenowfelt。Isanyonethelessillbecauseonedoesnotknowthenameofone’smalady？
　　Shelovedwithallthemorepassionbecauseshelovedignorantly。
　　Shedidnotknowwhetheritwasagoodthingorabadthing，usefulordangerous，eternalortemporary，allowableorprohibited；
　　sheloved。Shewouldhavebeengreatlyastonished，hadanyonesaidtoher:"Youdonotsleep？Butthatisforbidden！
　　Youdonoteat？Why，thatisverybad！Youhaveoppressionsandpalpitationsoftheheart？Thatmustnotbe！Youblushandturnpale，whenacertainbeingcladinblackappearsattheendofacertaingreenwalk？Butthatisabominable！"
　　Shewouldnothaveunderstood，andshewouldhavereplied:
　　"WhatfaultisthereofmineinamatterinwhichIhavenopowerandofwhichIknownothing？"
　　Itturnedoutthatthelovewhichpresenteditselfwasexactlysuitedtothestateofhersoul。Itwasasortofadmirationatadistance，amutecontemplation，thedeificationofastranger。
　　Itwastheapparitionofyouthtoyouth，thedreamofnightsbecomearealityyetremainingadream，thelonged—forphantomrealizedandmadefleshatlast，buthavingasyet，neithername，norfault，norspot，norexigence，nordefect；inaword，thedistantloverwholingeredintheideal，achimaerawithaform。
　　AnynearerandmorepalpablemeetingwouldhavealarmedCosetteatthisfirststage，whenshewasstillhalfimmersedintheexaggeratedmistsofthecloister。Shehadallthefearsofchildrenandallthefearsofnunscombined。Thespiritoftheconvent，withwhichshehadbeenpermeatedforthespaceoffiveyears，wasstillintheprocessofslowevaporationfromherperson，andmadeeverythingtremblearoundher。Inthissituationhewasnotalover，hewasnotevenanadmirer，hewasavision。
　　ShesetherselftoadoringMariusassomethingcharming，luminous，andimpossible。
　　Asextremeinnocencebordersonextremecoquetry，shesmiledathimwithallfrankness。
　　Everyday，shelookedforwardtothehourfortheirwalkwithimpatience，shefoundMariusthere，shefeltherselfunspeakablyhappy，andthoughtinallsinceritythatshewasexpressingherwholethoughtwhenshesaidtoJeanValjean:——
　　"WhatadeliciousgardenthatLuxembourgis！"
　　MariusandCosettewereinthedarkastooneanother。Theydidnotaddresseachother，theydidnotsaluteeachother，theydidnotknoweachother；theysaweachother；andlikestarsofheavenwhichareseparatedbymillionsofleagues，theylivedbygazingateachother。
　　ItwasthusthatCosettegraduallybecameawomananddeveloped，beautifulandloving，withaconsciousnessofherbeauty，andinignoranceofherlove。Shewasacoquettetobootthroughherignorance。
　　CHAPTERVII
　　TOONESADNESSOPPOSEASADNESSANDAHALF
　　Allsituationshavetheirinstincts。OldandeternalMotherNaturewarnedJeanValjeaninadimwayofthepresenceofMarius。
　　JeanValjeanshudderedtotheverybottomofhissoul。JeanValjeansawnothing，knewnothing，andyethescannedwithobstinateattention，thedarknessinwhichhewalked，asthoughhefeltononesideofhimsomethinginprocessofconstruction，andontheother，somethingwhichwascrumblingaway。Marius，alsowarned，and，inaccordancewiththedeeplawofGod，bythatsameMotherNature，didallhecouldtokeepoutofsightof"thefather。"Nevertheless，itcametopassthatJeanValjeansometimesespiedhim。Marius’mannerswerenolongerintheleastnatural。Heexhibitedambiguousprudenceandawkwarddaring。Henolongercamequiteclosetothemasformerly。
　　Heseatedhimselfatadistanceandpretendedtobereading；
　　whydidhepretendthat？Formerlyhehadcomeinhisoldcoat，nowheworehisnewoneeveryday；JeanValjeanwasnotsurethathedidnothavehishaircurled，hiseyeswereveryqueer，heworegloves；
　　inshort，JeanValjeancordiallydetestedthisyoungman。
　　Cosetteallowednothingtobedivined。Withoutknowingjustwhatwasthematterwithhershewasconvincedthattherewassomethinginit，andthatitmustbeconcealed。
　　TherewasacoincidencebetweenthetasteforthetoiletwhichhadrecentlycometoCosette，andthehabitofnewclothesdevelopedbythatstrangerwhichwasveryrepugnanttoJeanValjean。Itmightbeaccidental，nodoubt，certainly，butitwasamenacingaccident。
　　HeneveropenedhismouthtoCosetteaboutthisstranger。Oneday，however，hecouldnotrefrainfromsodoing，and，withthatvaguedespairwhichsuddenlycaststheleadintothedepthsofitsdespair，hesaidtoher:"Whataverypedanticairthatyoungmanhas！"
　　Cosette，butayearbeforeonlyanindifferentlittlegirl，wouldhavereplied:"Why，no，heischarming。"Tenyearslater，withtheloveofMariusinherheart，shewouldhaveanswered:
　　"Apedant，andinsufferabletothesight！Youareright！"——
　　Atthemomentinlifeandtheheartwhichshehadthenattained，shecontentedherselfwithreplying，withsupremecalmness:
　　"Thatyoungman！"
　　Asthoughshenowbeheldhimforthefirsttimeinherlife。
　　"HowstupidIam！"thoughtJeanValjean。"Shehadnotnoticedhim。
　　ItisIwhohavepointedhimouttoher。"
　　Oh，simplicityoftheold！oh，thedepthofchildren！
　　Itisoneofthelawsofthosefreshyearsofsufferingandtrouble，ofthosevivaciousconflictsbetweenafirstloveandthefirstobstacles，thattheyounggirldoesnotallowherselftobecaughtinanytrapwhatever，andthattheyoungmanfallsintoeveryone。
　　JeanValjeanhadinstitutedanundeclaredwaragainstMarius，whichMarius，withthesublimestupidityofhispassionandhisage，didnotdivine。JeanValjeanlaidahostofambushesforhim；
　　hechangedhishour，hechangedhisbench，heforgothishandkerchief，hecamealonetotheLuxembourg；Mariusdashedheadlongintoallthesesnares；andtoalltheinterrogationmarksplantedbyJeanValjeaninhispathway，heingenuouslyanswered"yes。"
　　ButCosetteremainedimmuredinherapparentunconcernandinherimperturbabletranquillity，sothatJeanValjeanarrivedatthefollowingconclusion:"ThatninnyismadlyinlovewithCosette，butCosettedoesnotevenknowthatheexists。"
　　Nonethelessdidhebearinhisheartamournfultremor。
　　TheminutewhenCosettewouldlovemightstrikeatanymoment。
　　Doesnoteverythingbeginwithindifference？
　　OnlyoncedidCosettemakeamistakeandalarmhim。Herosefromhisseattodepart，afterastayofthreehours，andshesaid:
　　"What，already？"
　　JeanValjeanhadnotdiscontinuedhistripstotheLuxembourg，ashedidnotwishtodoanythingoutoftheway，andas，aboveallthings，hefearedtoarouseCosette；butduringthehourswhichweresosweettothelovers，whileCosettewassendinghersmiletotheintoxicatedMarius，whoperceivednothingelsenow，andwhonowsawnothinginalltheworldbutanadoredandradiantface，JeanValjeanwasfixingonMariusflashingandterribleeyes。He，whohadfinallycometobelievehimselfincapableofamalevolentfeeling，experiencedmomentswhenMariuswaspresent，inwhichhethoughthewasbecomingsavageandferociousoncemore，andhefelttheolddepthsofhissoul，whichhadformerlycontainedsomuchwrath，openingoncemoreandrisingupagainstthatyoungman。Italmostseemedtohimthatunknowncraterswereforminginhisbosom。
　　What！hewasthere，thatcreature！Whatwashetherefor？
　　Hecamecreepingabout，smellingout，examining，trying！
　　Hecame，saying:"Hey！Whynot？"Hecametoprowlabouthis，JeanValjean’s，life！toprowlabouthishappiness，withthepurposeofseizingitandbearingitaway！
　　JeanValjeanadded:"Yes，that’sit！Whatisheinsearchof？
　　Anadventure！Whatdoeshewant？Aloveaffair！Aloveaffair！
　　AndI？What！Ihavebeenfirst，themostwretchedofmen，andthenthemostunhappy，andIhavetraversedsixtyyearsoflifeonmyknees，Ihavesufferedeverythingthatmancansuffer，Ihavegrownoldwithouthavingbeenyoung，Ihavelivedwithoutafamily，withoutrelatives，withoutfriends，withoutlife，withoutchildren，Ihaveleftmybloodoneverystone，oneverybramble，oneverymile—post，alongeverywall，Ihavebeengentle，thoughothershavebeenhardtome，andkind，althoughothershavebeenmalicious，Ihavebecomeanhonestmanoncemore，inspiteofeverything，IhaverepentedoftheevilthatIhavedoneandhaveforgiventheevilthathasbeendonetome，andatthemomentwhenI
　　receivemyrecompense，atthemomentwhenitisallover，atthemomentwhenIamjusttouchingthegoal，atthemomentwhenIhavewhatIdesire，itiswell，itisgood，Ihavepaid，Ihaveearnedit，allthisistotakeflight，allthiswillvanish，andIshallloseCosette，andIshalllosemylife，myjoy，mysoul，becauseithaspleasedagreatboobytocomeandloungeattheLuxembourg。"
　　Thenhiseyeswerefilledwithasadandextraordinarygleam。
　　Itwasnolongeramangazingataman；itwasnolongeranenemysurveyinganenemy。Itwasadogscanningathief。
　　Thereaderknowstherest。Mariuspursuedhissenselesscourse。
　　OnedayhefollowedCosettetotheRuedel’Ouest。Anotherdayhespoketotheporter。Theporter，onhisside，spoke，andsaidtoJeanValjean:"Monsieur，whoisthatcuriousyoungmanwhoisaskingforyou？"OnthemorrowJeanValjeanbestowedonMariusthatglancewhichMariusatlastperceived。Aweeklater，JeanValjeanhadtakenhisdeparture。HesworetohimselfthathewouldneveragainsetfooteitherintheLuxembourgorintheRuedel’Ouest。HereturnedtotheRuePlumet。
　　Cosettedidnotcomplain，shesaidnothing，sheaskednoquestions，shedidnotseektolearnhisreasons；shehadalreadyreachedthepointwhereshewasafraidofbeingdivined，andofbetrayingherself。
　　JeanValjeanhadnoexperienceofthesemiseries，theonlymiserieswhicharecharmingandtheonlyoneswithwhichhewasnotacquainted；
　　theconsequencewasthathedidnotunderstandthegravesignificanceofCosette’ssilence。
　　Hemerelynoticedthatshehadgrownsad，andhegrewgloomy。
　　Onhissideandonhers，inexperiencehadjoinedissue。
　　Oncehemadeatrial。HeaskedCosette:——
　　"WouldyouliketocometotheLuxembourg？"
　　ArayilluminatedCosette’spaleface。
　　"Yes，"saidshe。
　　Theywentthither。Threemonthshadelapsed。Mariusnolongerwentthere。Mariuswasnotthere。
　　Onthefollowingday，JeanValjeanaskedCosetteagain:——
　　"WouldyouliketocometotheLuxembourg？"
　　Shereplied，sadlyandgently:——
　　"No。"
　　JeanValjeanwashurtbythissadness，andheart—brokenatthisgentleness。
　　Whatwasgoingoninthatmindwhichwassoyoungandyetalreadysoimpenetrable？Whatwasonitswaytherewithin？WhatwastakingplaceinCosette’ssoul？Sometimes，insteadofgoingtobed，JeanValjeanremainedseatedonhispallet，withhisheadinhishands，andhepassedwholenightsaskinghimself:"WhathasCosetteinhermind？"
　　andinthinkingofthethingsthatshemightbethinkingabout。
　　Oh！atsuchmoments，whatmournfulglancesdidhecasttowardsthatcloister，thatchastepeak，thatabodeofangels，thatinaccessibleglacierofvirtue！Howhecontemplated，withdespairingecstasy，thatconventgarden，fullofignoredflowersandcloisteredvirgins，whereallperfumesandallsoulsmountstraighttoheaven！
　　HowheadoredthatEdenforeverclosedagainsthim，whencehehadvoluntarilyandmadlyemerged！HowheregrettedhisabnegationandhisfollyinhavingbroughtCosettebackintotheworld，poorheroofsacrifice，seizedandhurledtotheearthbyhisveryself—devotion！Howhesaidtohimself，"WhathaveIdone？"
　　However，nothingofallthiswasperceptibletoCosette。
　　Noill—temper，noharshness。Hisfacewasalwayssereneandkind。
　　JeanValjean’smannersweremoretenderandmorepaternalthanever。
　　Ifanythingcouldhavebetrayedhislackofjoy，itwashisincreasedsuavity。
　　Onherside，Cosettelanguished。ShesufferedfromtheabsenceofMariusasshehadrejoicedinhispresence，peculiarly，withoutexactlybeingconsciousofit。WhenJeanValjeanceasedtotakeherontheircustomarystrolls，afeminineinstinctmurmuredconfusedly，atthebottomofherheart，thatshemustnotseemtosetstoreontheLuxembourggarden，andthatifthisprovedtobeamatterofindifferencetoher，herfatherwouldtakeherthitheroncemore。
　　Butdays，weeks，months，elapsed。JeanValjeanhadtacitlyacceptedCosette’stacitconsent。Sheregrettedit。Itwastoolate。
　　SoMariushaddisappeared；allwasover。ThedayonwhichshereturnedtotheLuxembourg，Mariuswasnolongerthere。Whatwastobedone？
　　Shouldsheeverfindhimagain？Shefeltananguishatherheart，whichnothingrelieved，andwhichaugmentedeveryday；shenolongerknewwhetheritwaswinterorsummer，whetheritwasrainingorshining，whetherthebirdsweresinging，whetheritwastheseasonfordahliasordaisies，whethertheLuxembourgwasmorecharmingthantheTuileries，whetherthelinenwhichthelaundressbroughthomewasstarchedtoomuchornotenough，whetherToussainthaddone"hermarketing"wellorill；andsheremaineddejected，absorbed，attentivetobutasinglethought，hereyesvagueandstaringaswhenonegazesbynightatablackandfathomlessspotwhereanapparitionhasvanished。
　　However，shedidnotallowJeanValjeantoperceiveanythingofthis，exceptherpallor。
　　Shestillworehersweetfaceforhim。
　　ThispallorsufficedbuttoothoroughlytotroubleJeanValjean。
　　Sometimesheaskedher:——
　　"Whatisthematterwithyou？"
　　Shereplied:"Thereisnothingthematterwithme。"
　　Andafterasilence，whenshedivinedthathewassadalso，shewouldadd:——
　　"Andyou，father——isthereanythingwrongwithyou？"
　　"Withme？Nothing，"saidhe。
　　Thesetwobeingswhohadlovedeachothersoexclusively，andwithsotouchinganaffection，andwhohadlivedsolongforeachothernowsufferedsidebyside，eachontheother’saccount；
　　withoutacknowledgingittoeachother，withoutangertowardseachother，andwithasmile。
　　CHAPTERVIII
　　THECHAIN—GANG
　　JeanValjeanwasthemoreunhappyofthetwo。Youth，eveninitssorrows，alwayspossessesitsownpeculiarradiance。
　　Attimes，JeanValjeansufferedsogreatlythathebecamepuerile。
　　Itisthepropertyofgrieftocausethechildishsideofmantoreappear。HehadanunconquerableconvictionthatCosettewasescapingfromhim。Hewouldhavelikedtoresist，toretainher，toarouseherenthusiasmbysomeexternalandbrilliantmatter。
　　Theseideas，puerile，aswehavejustsaid，andatthesametimesenile，conveyedtohim，bytheirverychildishness，atolerablyjustnotionoftheinfluenceofgoldlaceontheimaginationsofyounggirls。
　　Heoncechancedtoseeageneralonhorseback，infulluniform，passalongthestreet，ComteCoutard，thecommandantofParis。
　　Heenviedthatgildedman；whathappinessitwouldbe，hesaidtohimself，ifhecouldputonthatsuitwhichwasanincontestablething；
　　andifCosettecouldbeholdhimthus，shewouldbedazzled，andwhenhehadCosetteonhisarmandpassedthegatesoftheTuileries，theguardwouldpresentarmstohim，andthatwouldsufficeforCosette，andwoulddispelherideaoflookingatyoungmen。
　　Anunforeseenshockwasaddedtothesesadreflections。
　　Intheisolatedlifewhichtheyled，andsincetheyhadcometodwellintheRuePlumet，theyhadcontractedonehabit。
　　Theysometimestookapleasuretriptoseethesunrise，amildspeciesofenjoymentwhichbefitsthosewhoareenteringlifeandthosewhoarequittingit。
　　Forthosewholovesolitude，awalkintheearlymorningisequivalenttoastrollbynight，withthecheerfulnessofnatureadded。
　　Thestreetsaredesertedandthebirdsaresinging。Cosette，abirdherself，likedtoriseearly。Thesematutinalexcursionswereplannedontheprecedingevening。Heproposed，andsheagreed。
　　Itwasarrangedlikeaplot，theysetoutbeforedaybreak，andthesetripsweresomanysmalldelightsforCosette。
　　Theseinnocenteccentricitiespleaseyoungpeople。
　　JeanValjean’sinclinationledhim，aswehaveseen，totheleastfrequentedspots，tosolitarynooks，toforgottenplaces。
　　Therethenexisted，inthevicinityofthebarriersofParis，asortofpoormeadows，whichwerealmostconfoundedwiththecity，wheregrewinsummersicklygrain，andwhich，inautumn，aftertheharvesthadbeengathered，presentedtheappearance，notofhavingbeenreaped，butpeeled。JeanValjeanlovedtohauntthesefields。Cosettewasnotboredthere。Itmeantsolitudetohimandlibertytoher。There，shebecamealittlegirloncemore，shecouldrunandalmostplay；shetookoffherhat，laiditonJeanValjean’sknees，andgatheredbunchesofflowers。
　　Shegazedatthebutterfliesontheflowers，butdidnotcatchthem；
　　gentlenessandtendernessarebornwithlove，andtheyounggirlwhocherisheswithinherbreastatremblingandfragileidealhasmercyonthewingofabutterfly。Shewovegarlandsofpoppies，whichsheplacedonherhead，andwhich，crossedandpenetratedwithsunlight，glowinguntiltheyflamed，formedforherrosyfaceacrownofburningembers。
　　Evenaftertheirlifehadgrownsad，theykeptuptheircustomofearlystrolls。
　　OnemorninginOctober，therefore，temptedbythesereneperfectionoftheautumnof1831，theysetout，andfoundthemselvesatbreakofdayneartheBarriereduMaine。Itwasnotdawn，itwasdaybreak；
　　adelightfulandsternmoment。Afewconstellationshereandthereinthedeep，paleazure，theearthallblack，theheavensallwhite，aquiveramidthebladesofgrass，everywherethemysteriouschilloftwilight。Alark，whichseemedmingledwiththestars，wascarollingataprodigiousheight，andonewouldhavedeclaredthatthathymnofpettinesscalmedimmensity。IntheEast，theValde—Graceprojecteditsdarkmassontheclearhorizonwiththesharpnessofsteel；Venusdazzlinglybrilliantwasrisingbehindthatdomeandhadtheairofasoulmakingitsescapefromagloomyedifice。
　　Allwaspeaceandsilence；therewasnooneontheroad；
　　afewstraylaborers，ofwhomtheycaughtbarelyaglimpse，wereontheirwaytotheirworkalongtheside—paths。
　　JeanValjeanwassittinginacross—walkonsomeplanksdepositedatthegateofatimber—yard。Hisfacewasturnedtowardsthehighway，hisbacktowardsthelight；hehadforgottenthesunwhichwasonthepointofrising；hehadsunkintooneofthoseprofoundabsorptionsinwhichthemindbecomesconcentrated，whichimprisoneventheeye，andwhichareequivalenttofourwalls。Therearemeditationswhichmaybecalledvertical；whenoneisatthebottomofthem，timeisrequiredtoreturntoearth。JeanValjeanhadplungedintooneofthesereveries。HewasthinkingofCosette，ofthehappinessthatwaspossibleifnothingcamebetweenhimandher，ofthelightwithwhichshefilledhislife，alightwhichwasbuttheemanationofhersoul。Hewasalmosthappyinhisrevery。Cosette，whowasstandingbesidehim，wasgazingatthecloudsastheyturnedrosy。
　　AllatonceCosetteexclaimed:"Father，Ishouldthinksomeonewascomingyonder。"JeanValjeanraisedhiseyes。
　　Cosettewasright。ThecausewaywhichleadstotheancientBarriereduMaineisaprolongation，asthereaderknows，oftheRuedeSevres，andiscutatrightanglesbytheinnerboulevard。
　　Attheelbowofthecausewayandtheboulevard，atthespotwhereitbranches，theyheardanoisewhichitwasdifficulttoaccountforatthathour，andasortofconfusedpilemadeitsappearance。
　　Someshapelessthingwhichwascomingfromtheboulevardwasturningintotheroad。
　　Itgrewlarger，itseemedtomoveinanorderlymanner，thoughitwasbristlingandquivering；itseemedtobeavehicle，butitsloadcouldnotbedistinctlymadeout。Therewerehorses，wheels，shouts；whipswerecracking。Bydegreestheoutlinesbecamefixed，althoughbathedinshadows。Itwasavehicle，infact，whichhadjustturnedfromtheboulevardintothehighway，andwhichwasdirectingitscoursetowardsthebarriernearwhichsatJeanValjean；asecond，ofthesameaspect，followed，thenathird，thenafourth；sevenchariotsmadetheirappearanceinsuccession，theheadsofthehorsestouchingtherearofthewagoninfront。
　　Figuresweremovingonthesevehicles，flasheswerevisiblethroughtheduskasthoughtherewerenakedswordsthere，aclankingbecameaudiblewhichresembledtherattlingofchains，andasthissomethingadvanced，thesoundofvoiceswaxedlouder，anditturnedintoaterriblethingsuchasemergesfromthecaveofdreams。
　　Asitdrewnearer，itassumedaform，andwasoutlinedbehindthetreeswiththepallidhueofanapparition；themassgrewwhite；theday，whichwasslowlydawning，castawanlightonthisswarmingheapwhichwasatoncebothsepulchralandliving，theheadsofthefiguresturnedintothefacesofcorpses，andthisiswhatitprovedtobe:——
　　Sevenwagonsweredrivinginafilealongtheroad。Thefirstsixweresingularlyconstructed。Theyresembledcoopers’drays；
　　theyconsistedoflongladdersplacedontwowheelsandformingbarrowsattheirrearextremities。Eachdray，orratherletussay，eachladder，wasattachedtofourhorsesharnessedtandem。
　　Ontheseladdersstrangeclustersofmenwerebeingdrawn。
　　Inthefaintlight，thesemenweretobedivinedratherthanseen。
　　Twenty—fouroneachvehicle，twelveonaside，backtoback，facingthepassers—by，theirlegsdanglingintheair，——thiswasthemannerinwhichthesemenweretravelling，andbehindtheirbackstheyhadsomethingwhichclanked，andwhichwasachain，andontheirneckssomethingwhichshone，andwhichwasanironcollar。
　　Eachmanhadhiscollar，butthechainwasforall；sothatifthesefourandtwentymenhadoccasiontoalightfromthedrayandwalk，theywereseizedwithasortofinexorableunity，andwereobligedtowindoverthegroundwiththechainforabackbone，somewhatafterthefashionofmillepeds。Inthebackandfrontofeachvehicle，twomenarmedwithmusketsstooderect，eachholdingoneendofthechainunderhisfoot。Theironneckletsweresquare。
　　Theseventhvehicle，ahugerack—sidedbaggagewagon，withoutahood，hadfourwheelsandsixhorses，andcarriedasonorouspileofironboilers，cast—ironpots，braziers，andchains，amongwhichweremingledseveralmenwhowerepinionedandstretchedatfulllength，andwhoseemedtobeill。Thiswagon，alllattice—work，wasgarnishedwithdilapidatedhurdleswhichappearedtohaveservedforformerpunishments。Thesevehicleskepttothemiddleoftheroad。
　　Oneachsidemarchedadoublehedgeofguardsofinfamousaspect，wearingthree—corneredhats，likethesoldiersundertheDirectory，shabby，coveredwithspotsandholes，muffledinuniformsofveteransandthetrousersofundertakers’men，halfgray，halfblue，whichwerealmosthanginginrags，withredepaulets，yellowshoulderbelts，shortsabres，muskets，andcudgels；theywereaspeciesofsoldier—blackguards。Thesemyrmidonsseemedcomposedoftheabjectnessofthebeggarandtheauthorityoftheexecutioner。
　　Theonewhoappearedtobetheirchiefheldapostilion’swhipinhishand。Allthesedetails，blurredbythedimnessofdawn，becamemoreandmoreclearlyoutlinedasthelightincreased。
　　Attheheadandintherearoftheconvoyrodemountedgendarmes，seriousandwithswordinfist。
　　Thisprocessionwassolongthatwhenthefirstvehiclereachedthebarrier，thelastwasbarelydebauchingfromtheboulevard。
　　Athrong，sprung，itisimpossibletosaywhence，andformedinatwinkling，asisfrequentlythecaseinParis，pressedforwardfrombothsidesoftheroadandlookedon。Intheneighboringlanestheshoutsofpeoplecallingtoeachotherandthewoodenshoesofmarket—gardenershasteninguptogazewereaudible。
　　Themenmasseduponthedraysallowedthemselvestobejoltedalonginsilence。Theywerelividwiththechillofmorning。
　　Theyallworelinentrousers，andtheirbarefeetwerethrustintowoodenshoes。Therestoftheircostumewasafantasyofwretchedness。
　　Theiraccoutrementswerehorriblyincongruous；nothingismorefunerealthantheharlequininrags。Batteredfelthats，tarpaulincaps，hideouswoollennightcaps，and，sidebysidewithashortblouse，ablackcoatbrokenattheelbow；manyworewomen’sheadgear，othershadbasketsontheirheads；hairybreastswerevisible，andthroughtherentintheirgarmentstattooeddesignscouldbedescried；
　　templesofLove，flaminghearts，Cupids；eruptionsandunhealthyredblotchescouldalsobeseen。Twoorthreehadastrawropeattachedtothecross—barofthedray，andsuspendedunderthemlikeastirrup，whichsupportedtheirfeet。Oneofthemheldinhishandandraisedtohismouthsomethingwhichhadtheappearanceofablackstoneandwhichheseemedtobegnawing；itwasbreadwhichhewaseating。
　　Therewerenoeyestherewhichwerenoteitherdry，dulled，orflamingwithanevillight。Theescorttroopcursed，themeninchainsdidnotutterasyllable；fromtimetotimethesoundofablowbecameaudibleasthecudgelsdescendedonshoulder—bladesorskulls；
　　someofthesemenwereyawning；theirragswereterrible；theirfeethungdown，theirshouldersoscillated，theirheadsclashedtogether，theirfettersclanked，theireyesglaredferociously，theirfistsclenchedorfellopeninertlylikethehandsofcorpses；intherearoftheconvoyranabandofchildrenscreamingwithlaughter。
　　Thisfileofvehicles，whateveritsnaturewas，wasmournful。
　　Itwasevidentthatto—morrow，thatanhourhence，apouringrainmightdescend，thatitmightbefollowedbyanotherandanother，andthattheirdilapidatedgarmentswouldbedrenched，thatoncesoaked，thesemenwouldnotgetdryagain，thatoncechilled，theywouldnotagaingetwarm，thattheirlinentrouserswouldbegluedtotheirbonesbythedownpour，thatthewaterwouldfilltheirshoes，thatnolashesfromthewhipswouldbeabletopreventtheirjawsfromchattering，thatthechainwouldcontinuetobindthembytheneck，thattheirlegswouldcontinuetodangle，anditwasimpossiblenottoshudderatthesightofthesehumanbeingsthusboundandpassivebeneaththecoldcloudsofautumn，anddeliveredovertotherain，totheblast，toallthefuriesoftheair，liketreesandstones。
　　Blowsfromthecudgelwerenotomittedeveninthecaseofthesickmen，wholaythereknottedwithropesandmotionlessontheseventhwagon，andwhoappearedtohavebeentossedtherelikesacksfilledwithmisery。
　　Suddenly，thesunmadeitsappearance；theimmenselightoftheOrientburstforth，andonewouldhavesaidthatithadsetfiretoallthoseferociousheads。Theirtongueswereunloosed；aconflagrationofgrins，oaths，andsongsexploded。Thebroadhorizontalsheetoflightseveredthefileintwoparts，illuminatingheadsandbodies，leavingfeetandwheelsintheobscurity。Thoughtsmadetheirappearanceonthesefaces；itwasaterriblemoment；visibledemonswiththeirmasksremoved，fiercesoulslaidbare。Thoughlightedup，thiswildthrongremainedingloom。Some，whoweregay，hadintheirmouthsquillsthroughwhichtheyblewverminoverthecrowd，pickingoutthewomen；thedawnaccentuatedtheselamentableprofileswiththeblacknessofitsshadows；therewasnotoneofthesecreatureswhowasnotdeformedbyreasonofwretchedness；
　　andthewholewassomonstrousthatonewouldhavesaidthatthesun’sbrilliancyhadbeenchangedintotheglareofthelightning。
　　Thewagon—loadwhichheadedthelinehadstruckupasong，andwereshoutingatthetopoftheirvoiceswithahaggardjoviality，apotpourribyDesaugiers，thenfamous，calledTheVestal；thetreesshiveredmournfully；inthecross—lanes，countenancesofbourgeoislistenedinanidioticdelighttothesecoarsestrainsdronedbyspectres。
　　Allsortsofdistressmetinthisprocessionasinchaos；hereweretobefoundthefacialanglesofeverysortofbeast，oldmen，youths，baldheads，graybeards，cynicalmonstrosities，sourresignation，savagegrins，senselessattitudes，snoutssurmountedbycaps，headslikethoseofyounggirlswithcorkscrewcurlsonthetemples，infantilevisages，andbyreasonofthat，horriblethinskeletonfaces，towhichdeathalonewaslacking。Onthefirstcartwasanegro，whohadbeenaslave，inallprobability，andwhocouldmakeacomparisonofhischains。Thefrightfullevellerfrombelow，shame，hadpassedoverthesebrows；atthatdegreeofabasement，thelasttransformationsweresufferedbyallintheirextremestdepths，andignorance，convertedintodulness，wastheequalofintelligenceconvertedintodespair。Therewasnochoicepossiblebetweenthesemenwhoappearedtotheeyeastheflowerofthemud。
　　Itwasevidentthatthepersonwhohadhadtheorderingofthatuncleanprocessionhadnotclassifiedthem。Thesebeingshadbeenfetteredandcoupledpell—mell，inalphabeticaldisorder，probably，andloadedhap—hazardonthosecarts。Nevertheless，horrors，whengroupedtogether，alwaysendbyevolvingaresult；alladditionsofwretchedmengiveasumtotal，eachchainexhaledacommonsoul，andeachdray—loadhaditsownphysiognomy。Bythesideoftheonewheretheyweresinging，therewasonewheretheywerehowling；
　　athirdwheretheywerebegging；onecouldbeseeninwhichtheyweregnashingtheirteeth；anotherloadmenacedthespectators，anotherblasphemedGod；thelastwasassilentasthetomb。
　　Dantewouldhavethoughtthathebeheldhissevencirclesofhellonthemarch。Themarchofthedamnedtotheirtortures，performedinsinisterwise，notontheformidableandflamingchariotoftheApocalypse，but，whatwasmoremournfulthanthat，onthegibbetcart。
　　Oneoftheguards，whohadahookontheendofhiscudgel，madeapretencefromtimetotime，ofstirringupthismassofhumanfilth。
　　Anoldwomaninthecrowdpointedthemouttoherlittleboyfiveyearsold，andsaidtohim:"Rascal，letthatbeawarningtoyou！"
　　Asthesongsandblasphemiesincreased，themanwhoappearedtobethecaptainoftheescortcrackedhiswhip，andatthatsignalafearfuldullandblindflogging，whichproducedthesoundofhail，felluponthesevendray—loads；manyroaredandfoamedatthemouth；
　　whichredoubledthedelightofthestreeturchinswhohadhastenedup，aswarmoffliesonthesewounds。
　　JeanValjean’seyeshadassumedafrightfulexpression。
　　Theywerenolongereyes；theywerethosedeepandglassyobjectswhichreplacetheglanceinthecaseofcertainwretchedmen，whichseemunconsciousofreality，andinwhichflamesthereflectionofterrorsandofcatastrophes。Hewasnotlookingataspectacle，hewasseeingavision。Hetriedtorise，toflee，tomakehisescape；hecouldnotmovehisfeet。Sometimes，thethingsthatyouseeseizeuponyouandholdyoufast。Heremainednailedtothespot，petrified，stupid，askinghimself，athwartconfusedandinexpressibleanguish，whatthissepulchralpersecutionsignified，andwhencehadcomethatpandemoniumwhichwaspursuinghim。
　　Allatonce，heraisedhishandtohisbrow，agesturehabitualtothosewhosememorysuddenlyreturns；herememberedthatthiswas，infact，theusualitinerary，thatitwascustomarytomakethisdetourinordertoavoidallpossibilityofencounteringroyaltyontheroadtoFontainebleau，andthat，fiveandthirtyyearsbefore，hehadhimselfpassedthroughthatbarrier。
　　Cosettewasnolessterrified，butinadifferentway。Shedidnotunderstand；whatshebehelddidnotseemtohertobepossible；
　　atlengthshecried:——
　　"Father！Whatarethosemeninthosecarts？"
　　JeanValjeanreplied:"Convicts。"
　　"Whitheraretheygoing？"
　　"Tothegalleys。"
　　Atthatmoment，thecudgelling，multipliedbyahundredhands，becamezealous，blowswiththeflatoftheswordweremingledwithit，itwasaperfectstormofwhipsandclubs；theconvictsbentbeforeit，ahideousobediencewasevokedbythetorture，andallheldtheirpeace，dartingglanceslikechainedwolves。
　　Cosettetrembledineverylimb；sheresumed:——
　　"Father，aretheystillmen？"
　　"Sometimes，"answeredtheunhappyman。
　　Itwasthechain—gang，infact，whichhadsetoutbeforedaybreakfromBicetre，andhadtakentheroadtoMansinordertoavoidFontainebleau，wheretheKingthenwas。Thiscausedthehorriblejourneytolastthreeorfourdayslonger；buttorturemaysurelybeprolongedwiththeobjectofsparingtheroyalpersonageasightofit。
　　JeanValjeanreturnedhomeutterlyoverwhelmed。Suchencountersareshocks，andthememorythattheyleavebehindthemresemblesathoroughshakingup。
　　Nevertheless，JeanValjeandidnotobservethat，onhiswaybacktotheRuedeBabylonewithCosette，thelatterwasplyinghimwithotherquestionsonthesubjectofwhattheyhadjustseen；
　　perhapshewastoomuchabsorbedinhisowndejectiontonoticeherwordsandreplytothem。ButwhenCosettewasleavinghimintheevening，tobetakeherselftobed，heheardhersayinalowvoice，andasthoughtalkingtoherself:"Itseemstome，thatifIweretofindoneofthosemeninmypathway，oh，myGod，Ishoulddiemerelyfromthesightofhimcloseathand。"
　　Fortunately，chanceordainedthatonthemorrowofthattragicday，therewassomeofficialsolemnityaproposofIknownotwhat，——
　　fetesinParis，areviewintheChampdeMars，joustsontheSeine，theatricalperformancesintheChamps—Elysees，fireworksattheArcdel’Etoile，illuminationseverywhere。JeanValjeandidviolencetohishabits，andtookCosettetoseetheserejoicings，forthepurposeofdivertingherfromthememoryofthedaybefore，andofeffacing，beneaththesmilingtumultofallParis，theabominablethingwhichhadpassedbeforeher。Thereviewwithwhichthefestivalwasspicedmadethepresenceofuniformsperfectlynatural；JeanValjeandonnedhisuniformofanationalguardwiththevagueinwardfeelingofamanwhoisbetakinghimselftoshelter。However，thistripseemedtoattainitsobject。
　　Cosette，whomadeitherlawtopleaseherfather，andtowhom，moreover，allspectacleswereanovelty，acceptedthisdiversionwiththelightandeasygoodgraceofyouth，anddidnotpouttoodisdainfullyatthatflutterofenjoymentcalledapublicfete；
　　sothatJeanValjeanwasabletobelievethathehadsucceeded，andthatnotraceofthathideousvisionremained。
　　Somedayslater，onemorning，whenthesunwasshiningbrightly，andtheywerebothonthestepsleadingtothegarden，anotherinfractionoftheruleswhichJeanValjeanseemedtohaveimposeduponhimself，andtothecustomofremaininginherchamberwhichmelancholyhadcausedCosettetoadopt，Cosette，inawrapper，wasstandingerectinthatnegligentattireofearlymorningwhichenvelopsyounggirlsinanadorablewayandwhichproducestheeffectofaclouddrawnoverastar；and，withherheadbathedinlight，rosyafteragoodsleep，submittingtothegentleglancesofthetenderoldman，shewaspickingadaisytopieces。Cosettedidnotknowthedelightfullegend，Ilovealittle，passionately，etc。——whowastherewhocouldhavetaughther？Shewashandlingtheflowerinstinctively，innocently，withoutasuspicionthattopluckadaisyapartistodothesamebyaheart。Iftherewereafourth，andsmilingGracecalledMelancholy，shewouldhaveworntheairofthatGrace。
　　JeanValjeanwasfascinatedbythecontemplationofthosetinyfingersonthatflower，andforgetfulofeverythingintheradianceemittedbythatchild。Ared—breastwaswarblinginthethicket，ononeside。Whitecloudletsfloatedacrossthesky，sogayly，thatonewouldhavesaidthattheyhadjustbeensetatliberty。
　　Cosettewentonattentivelytearingtheleavesfromherflower；
　　sheseemedtobethinkingaboutsomething；butwhateveritwas，itmustbesomethingcharming；allatoncesheturnedherheadoverhershoulderwiththedelicatelanguorofaswan，andsaidtoJeanValjean:"Father，whatarethegalleyslike？"
　　BOOKFOURTH。——SUCCORFROMBELOWMAYTURNOUTTOBESUCCORFROMONHIGH
　　CHAPTERI
　　AWOUNDWITHOUT，HEALINGWITHIN
　　Thustheirlifecloudedoverbydegrees。
　　Butonediversion，whichhadformerlybeenahappiness，remainedtothem，whichwastocarrybreadtothosewhowerehungry，andclothingtothosewhowerecold。CosetteoftenaccompaniedJeanValjeanonthesevisitstothepoor，onwhichtheyrecoveredsomeremnantsoftheirformerfreeintercourse；andsometimes，whenthedayhadbeenagoodone，andtheyhadassistedmanyindistress，andcheeredandwarmedmanylittlechildren，Cosettewasrathermerryintheevening。
　　ItwasatthisepochthattheypaidtheirvisittotheJondretteden。
　　Onthedayfollowingthatvisit，JeanValjeanmadehisappearanceinthepavilioninthemorning，calmaswashiswont，butwithalargewoundonhisleftarmwhichwasmuchinflamed，andveryangry，whichresembledaburn，andwhichheexplainedinsomewayorother。
　　Thiswoundresultedinhisbeingdetainedinthehouseforamonthwithfever。Hewouldnotcallinadoctor。WhenCosetteurgedhim，"Callthedog—doctor，"saidhe。
　　Cosettedressedthewoundmorningandeveningwithsodivineanairandsuchangelichappinessatbeingofusetohim，thatJeanValjeanfeltallhisformerjoyreturning，hisfearsandanxietiesdissipating，andhegazedatCosette，saying:"Oh！whatakindlywound！
　　Oh！whatagoodmisfortune！"
　　Cosetteonperceivingthatherfatherwasill，haddesertedthepavilionandagaintakenafancytothelittlelodgingandthebackcourtyard。
　　ShepassednearlyallherdaysbesideJeanValjeanandreadtohimthebookswhichhedesired。Generallytheywerebooksoftravel。
　　JeanValjeanwasundergoinganewbirth；hishappinesswasrevivingintheseineffablerays；theLuxembourg，theprowlingyoungstranger，Cosette’scoldness，——allthesecloudsuponhissoulweregrowingdim。
　　Hehadreachedthepointwherehesaidtohimself:"Iimaginedallthat。
　　Iamanoldfool。"
　　HishappinesswassogreatthatthehorriblediscoveryoftheThenardiersmadeintheJondrettehovel，unexpectedasitwas，had，afterafashion，glidedoverhimunnoticed。Hehadsucceededinmakinghisescape；
　　alltraceofhimwaslost——whatmoredidhecarefor！heonlythoughtofthosewretchedbeingstopitythem。"Heretheyareinprison，andhenceforththeywillbeincapacitatedfordoinganyharm，"
　　hethought，"butwhatalamentablefamilyindistress！"
　　AsforthehideousvisionoftheBarriereduMaine，Cosettehadnotreferredtoitagain。
　　SisterSainte—MechtildehadtaughtCosettemusicintheconvent；
　　Cosettehadthevoiceofalinnetwithasoul，andsometimes，intheevening，inthewoundedman’shumbleabode，shewarbledmelancholysongswhichdelightedJeanValjean。
　　Springcame；thegardenwassodelightfulatthatseasonoftheyear，thatJeanValjeansaidtoCosette:——
　　"Younevergothere；Iwantyoutostrollinit。"
　　"Asyoulike，father，"saidCosette。
　　Andforthesakeofobeyingherfather，sheresumedherwalksinthegarden，generallyalone，for，aswehavementioned，JeanValjean，whowasprobablyafraidofbeingseenthroughthefence，hardlyeverwentthere。
　　JeanValjean’swoundhadcreatedadiversion。
　　WhenCosettesawthatherfatherwassufferingless，thathewasconvalescing，andthatheappearedtobehappy，sheexperiencedacontentmentwhichshedidnotevenperceive，sogentlyandnaturallyhaditcome。Then，itwasinthemonthofMarch，thedaysweregrowinglonger，thewinterwasdeparting，thewinteralwaysbearsawaywithitaportionofoursadness；thencameApril，thatdaybreakofsummer，freshasdawnalwaysis，gaylikeeverychildhood；
　　alittleinclinedtoweepattimeslikethenew—bornbeingthatitis。
　　Inthatmonth，naturehascharminggleamswhichpassfromthesky，fromthetrees，fromthemeadowsandtheflowersintotheheartofman。
　　CosettewasstilltooyoungtoescapethepenetratinginfluenceofthatApriljoywhichboresostrongaresemblancetoherself。
　　Insensibly，andwithouthersuspectingthefact，theblacknessdepartedfromherspirit。Inspring，sadsoulsgrowlight，aslightfallsintocellarsatmidday。Cosettewasnolongersad。
　　However，thoughthiswasso，shedidnotaccountforittoherself。
　　Inthemorning，aboutteno’clock，afterbreakfast，whenshehadsucceededinenticingherfatherintothegardenforaquarterofanhour，andwhenshewaspacingupanddowninthesunlightinfrontofthesteps，supportinghisleftarmforhim，shedidnotperceivethatshelaughedeverymomentandthatshewashappy。
　　JeanValjean，intoxicated，beheldhergrowingfreshandrosyoncemore。
　　"Oh！Whatagoodwound！"herepeatedinawhisper。
　　AndhefeltgratefultotheThenardiers。
　　Hiswoundoncehealed，heresumedhissolitarytwilightstrolls。
　　ItisamistaketosupposethatapersoncanstrollaloneinthatfashionintheuninhabitedregionsofPariswithoutmeetingwithsomeadventure。
　　CHAPTERII
　　MOTHERPLUTARQUEFINDSNODIFFICULTYINEXPLAININGAPHENOMENON
　　Oneevening，littleGavrochehadhadnothingtoeat；herememberedthathehadnotdinedontheprecedingdayeither；thiswasbecomingtiresome。Heresolvedtomakeanefforttosecuresomesupper。
　　HestrolledoutbeyondtheSalpetriereintodesertedregions；
　　thatiswherewindfallsaretobefound；wherethereisnoone，onealwaysfindssomething。HereachedasettlementwhichappearedtohimtobethevillageofAusterlitz。
　　Inoneofhisprecedingloungeshehadnoticedthereanoldgardenhauntedbyanoldmanandanoldwoman，andinthatgarden，apassableapple—tree。Besidetheapple—treestoodasortoffruit—house，whichwasnotsecurelyfastened，andwhereonemightcontrivetogetanapple。Oneappleisasupper；oneappleislife。ThatwhichwasAdam’sruinmightproveGavroche’ssalvation。Thegardenabuttedonasolitary，unpavedlane，borderedwithbrushwoodwhileawaitingthearrivalofhouses；thegardenwasseparatedfromitbyahedge。
　　Gavrochedirectedhisstepstowardsthisgarden；hefoundthelane，herecognizedtheapple—tree，heverifiedthefruit—house，heexaminedthehedge；ahedgemeansmerelyonestride。Thedaywasdeclining，therewasnotevenacatinthelane，thehourwaspropitious。
　　Gavrochebegantheoperationofscalingthehedge，thensuddenlypaused。
　　Someonewastalkinginthegarden。Gavrochepeepedthroughoneofthebreaksinthehedge。
　　Acoupleofpacesdistant，atthefootofthehedgeontheotherside，exactlyatthepointwherethegapwhichhewasmeditatingwouldhavebeenmade，therewasasortofrecumbentstonewhichformedabench，andonthisbenchwasseatedtheoldmanofthegarden，whiletheoldwomanwasstandinginfrontofhim。Theoldwomanwasgrumbling。Gavroche，whowasnotverydiscreet，listened。
　　"MonsieurMabeuf！"saidtheoldwoman。
　　"Mabeuf！"thoughtGavroche，"thatnameisaperfectfarce。"
　　Theoldmanwhowasthusaddressed，didnotstir。Theoldwomanrepeated:——
　　"MonsieurMabeuf！"
　　Theoldman，withoutraisinghiseyesfromtheground，madeuphismindtoanswer:——
　　"Whatisit，MotherPlutarque？"
　　"MotherPlutarque！"thoughtGavroche，"anotherfarcicalname。"
　　MotherPlutarquebeganagain，andtheoldmanwasforcedtoaccepttheconversation:——
　　"Thelandlordisnotpleased。"
　　"Why？"
　　"Weowethreequartersrent。"
　　"Inthreemonths，weshallowehimforfourquarters。"
　　"Hesaysthathewillturnyououttosleep。"
　　"Iwillgo。"
　　"Thegreen—grocerinsistsonbeingpaid。Shewillnolongerleaveherfagots。Whatwillyouwarmyourselfwiththiswinter？
　　Weshallhavenowood。"
　　"Thereisthesun。"
　　"Thebutcherrefusestogivecredit；hewillnotletushaveanymoremeat。"
　　"Thatisquiteright。Idonotdigestmeatwell。Itistooheavy。"
　　"Whatshallwehavefordinner？"
　　"Bread。"
　　"Thebakerdemandsasettlement，andsays，`nomoney，nobread。’"
　　"Thatiswell。"
　　"Whatwillyoueat？"
　　"Wehaveapplesintheapple—room。"
　　"But，Monsieur，wecan’tlivelikethatwithoutmoney。"
　　"Ihavenone。"
　　Theoldwomanwentaway，theoldmanremainedalone。Hefellintothought。Gavrochebecamethoughtfulalso。Itwasalmostdark。
　　ThefirstresultofGavroche’smeditationwas，thatinsteadofscalingthehedge，hecroucheddownunderit。Thebranchesstoodapartalittleatthefootofthethicket。
　　"Come，"exclaimedGavrochementally，"here’sanook！"andhecurledupinit。HisbackwasalmostincontactwithFatherMabeuf’sbench。
　　Hecouldheartheoctogenarianbreathe。
　　Then，bywayofdinner，hetriedtosleep。
　　Itwasacat—nap，withoneeyeopen。Whilehedozed，Gavrochekeptonthewatch。
　　Thetwilightpalloroftheskyblanchedtheearth，andthelaneformedalividlinebetweentworowsofdarkbushes。
　　Allatonce，inthiswhitishband，twofiguresmadetheirappearance。
　　Onewasinfront，theothersomedistanceintherear。
　　"Therecometwocreatures，"mutteredGavroche。
　　Thefirstformseemedtobesomeelderlybourgeois，whowasbentandthoughtful，dressedmorethanplainly，andwhowaswalkingslowlybecauseofhisage，andstrollingaboutintheopeneveningair。
　　Thesecondwasstraight，firm，slender。Itregulateditspacebythatofthefirst；butinthevoluntaryslownessofitsgait，supplenessandagilitywerediscernible。Thisfigurehadalsosomethingfierceanddisquietingaboutit，thewholeshapewasthatofwhatwasthencalledanelegant；thehatwasofgoodshape，thecoatblack，wellcut，probablyoffinecloth，andwellfittedinatthewaist。Theheadwashelderectwithasortofrobustgrace，andbeneaththehatthepaleprofileofayoungmancouldbemadeoutinthedimlight。Theprofilehadaroseinitsmouth。
　　ThissecondformwaswellknowntoGavroche；itwasMontparnasse。
　　Hecouldhavetoldnothingabouttheother，exceptthathewasarespectableoldman。
　　Gavrocheimmediatelybegantotakeobservations。
　　Oneofthesetwopedestriansevidentlyhadaprojectconnectedwiththeother。Gavrochewaswellplacedtowatchthecourseofevents。
　　Thebedroomhadturnedintoahiding—placeataveryopportunemoment。
　　Montparnasseonthehuntatsuchanhour，insuchaplace，betokenedsomethingthreatening。Gavrochefelthisgamin’sheartmovedwithcompassionfortheoldman。
　　Whatwashetodo？Interfere？Oneweaknesscomingtotheaidofanother！ItwouldbemerelyalaughingmatterforMontparnasse。
　　Gavrochedidnotshuthiseyestothefactthattheoldman，inthefirstplace，andthechildinthesecond，wouldmakebuttwomouthfulsforthatredoubtableruffianeighteenyearsofage。
　　WhileGavrochewasdeliberating，theattacktookplace，abruptlyandhideously。Theattackofthetigeronthewildass，theattackofthespideronthefly。Montparnassesuddenlytossedawayhisrose，boundedupontheoldman，seizedhimbythecollar，graspedandclungtohim，andGavrochewithdifficultyrestrainedascream。Amomentlateroneofthesemenwasunderneaththeother，groaning，struggling，withakneeofmarbleuponhisbreast。Only，itwasnotjustwhatGavrochehadexpected。
　　TheonewholayontheearthwasMontparnasse；theonewhowasontopwastheoldman。AllthistookplaceafewpacesdistantfromGavroche。
　　Theoldmanhadreceivedtheshock，hadreturnedit，andthatinsuchaterriblefashion，thatinatwinkling，theassailantandtheassailedhadexchangedroles。
　　"Here’saheartyveteran！"thoughtGavroche。
　　Hecouldnotrefrainfromclappinghishands。Butitwasapplausewasted。Itdidnotreachthecombatants，absorbedanddeafenedastheywere，eachbytheother，astheirbreathmingledinthestruggle。
　　Silenceensued。Montparnasseceasedhisstruggles。Gavrocheindulgedinthisaside:"Canhebedead！"
　　Thegoodmanhadnotutteredaword，norgivenventtoacry。
　　Herosetohisfeet，andGavrocheheardhimsaytoMontparnasse:——
　　"Getup。"
　　Montparnasserose，butthegoodmanheldhimfast。
　　Montparnasse’sattitudewasthehumiliatedandfuriousattitudeofthewolfwhohasbeencaughtbyasheep。
　　Gavrochelookedonandlistened，makinganefforttoreinforcehiseyeswithhisears。Hewasenjoyinghimselfimmensely。
　　Hewasrepaidforhisconscientiousanxietyinthecharacterofaspectator。Hewasabletocatchonthewingadialoguewhichborrowedfromthedarknessanindescribablytragicaccent。
　　Thegoodmanquestioned，Montparnassereplied。
　　"Howoldareyou？"
　　"Nineteen。"
　　"Youarestrongandhealthy。Whydoyounotwork？"
　　"Itboresme。"
　　"Whatisyourtrade？"
　　"Anidler。"
　　"Speakseriously。Cananythingbedoneforyou？Whatwouldyouliketobe？"
　　"Athief。"
　　Apauseensued。Theoldmanseemedabsorbedinprofoundthought。
　　Hestoodmotionless，anddidnotrelaxhisholdonMontparnasse。
　　Everymomentthevigorousandagileyoungruffianindulgedinthetwitchingsofawildbeastcaughtinasnare。Hegaveajerk，triedacrookoftheknee，twistedhislimbsdesperately，andmadeeffortstoescape。
　　Theoldmandidnotappeartonoticeit，andheldbothhisarmswithonehand，withthesovereignindifferenceofabsoluteforce。
　　Theoldman’sreverylastedforsometime，then，lookingsteadilyatMontparnasse，headdressedtohiminagentlevoice，inthemidstofthedarknesswheretheystood，asolemnharangue，ofwhichGavrochedidnotloseasinglesyllable:——
　　"Mychild，youareentering，throughindolence，ononeofthemostlaboriousoflives。Ah！Youdeclareyourselftobeanidler！preparetotoil。Thereisacertainformidablemachine，haveyouseenit？
　　Itistherolling—mill。Youmustbeonyourguardagainstit，itiscraftyandferocious；ifitcatchesholdoftheskirtofyourcoat，youwillbedrawninbodily。Thatmachineislaziness。
　　Stopwhilethereisyettime，andsaveyourself！Otherwise，itisalloverwithyou；inashorttimeyouwillbeamongthegearing。
　　Onceentangled，hopefornothingmore。Toil，lazybones！thereisnomorereposeforyou！Theironhandofimplacabletoilhasseizedyou。
　　Youdonotwishtoearnyourliving，tohaveatask，tofulfiladuty！
　　Itboresyoutobelikeothermen？Well！Youwillbedifferent。
　　Laboristhelaw；hewhorejectsitwillfindennuihistorment。
　　Youdonotwishtobeaworkingman，youwillbeaslave。
　　Toilletsgoofyouononesideonlytograspyouagainontheother。Youdonotdesiretobeitsfriend，youshallbeitsnegroslave。Ah！Youwouldhavenoneofthehonestwearinessofmen，youshallhavethesweatofthedamned。Whereotherssing，youwillrattleinyourthroat。Youwillseeafaroff，frombelow，othermenatwork；itwillseemtoyouthattheyareresting。
　　Thelaborer，theharvester，thesailor，theblacksmith，willappeartoyouingloryliketheblessedspiritsinparadise。Whatradiancesurroundstheforge！Toguidetheplough，tobindthesheaves，isjoy。Thebarkatlibertyinthewind，whatdelight！Doyou，lazyidler，delve，dragon，roll，march！Dragyourhalter。
　　Youareabeastofburdenintheteamofhell！Ah！Todonothingisyourobject。Well，notaweek，notaday，notanhourshallyouhavefreefromoppression。Youwillbeabletoliftnothingwithoutanguish。Everyminutethatpasseswillmakeyourmusclescrack。
　　Whatisafeathertootherswillbearocktoyou。Thesimplestthingswillbecomesteepacclivities。Lifewillbecomemonstrousallaboutyou。Togo，tocome，tobreathe，willbejustsomanyterriblelabors。Yourlungswillproduceonyoutheeffectofweighingahundredpounds。Whetheryoushallwalkhereratherthanthere，willbecomeaproblemthatmustbesolved。Anyonewhowantstogooutsimplygiveshisdoorapush，andthereheisintheopenair。
　　Ifyouwishtogoout，youwillbeobligedtopierceyourwall。
　　Whatdoeseveryonewhowantstostepintothestreetdo？Hegoesdownstairs；youwilltearupyoursheets，littlebylittleyouwillmakeofthemarope，thenyouwillclimboutofyourwindow，andyouwillsuspendyourselfbythatthreadoveranabyss，anditwillbenight，amidstorm，rain，andthehurricane，andiftheropeistooshort，butonewayofdescendingwillremaintoyou，tofall。Todrophap—hazardintothegulf，fromanunknownheight，onwhat？Onwhatisbeneath，ontheunknown。Oryouwillcrawlupachimney—flue，attheriskofburning；oryouwillcreepthroughasewer—pipe，attheriskofdrowning；Idonotspeakoftheholesthatyouwillbeobligedtomask，ofthestoneswhichyouwillhavetotakeupandreplacetwentytimesaday，oftheplasterthatyouwillhavetohideinyourstrawpallet。Alockpresentsitself；
　　thebourgeoishasinhispocketakeymadebyalocksmith。Ifyouwishtopassout，youwillbecondemnedtoexecuteaterribleworkofart；youwilltakealargesou，youwillcutitintwoplates；
　　withwhattools？Youwillhavetoinventthem。Thatisyourbusiness。
　　Thenyouwillhollowouttheinterioroftheseplates，takinggreatcareoftheoutside，andyouwillmakeontheedgesathread，sothattheycanbeadjustedoneupontheotherlikeaboxanditscover。
　　Thetopandbottomthusscrewedtogether，nothingwillbesuspected。
　　Totheoverseersitwillbeonlyasou；toyouitwillbeabox。
　　Whatwillyouputinthisbox？Asmallbitofsteel。Awatch—spring，inwhichyouwillhavecutteeth，andwhichwillformasaw。
　　Withthissaw，aslongasapin，andconcealedinasou，youwillcuttheboltofthelock，youwillseverbolts，thepadlockofyourchain，andthebaratyourwindow，andthefetteronyourleg。
　　Thismasterpiecefinished，thisprodigyaccomplished，allthesemiraclesofart，address，skill，andpatienceexecuted，whatwillbeyourrecompenseifitbecomesknownthatyouaretheauthor？Thedungeon。
　　Thereisyourfuture。Whatprecipicesareidlenessandpleasure！
　　Doyouknowthattodonothingisamelancholyresolution？
　　Toliveinidlenessonthepropertyofsociety！tobeuseless，thatistosay，pernicious！Thisleadsstraighttothedepthofwretchedness。Woetothemanwhodesirestobeaparasite！
　　Hewillbecomevermin！Ah！Soitdoesnotpleaseyoutowork？
　　Ah！Youhavebutonethought，todrinkwell，toeatwell，tosleepwell。Youwilldrinkwater，youwilleatblackbread，youwillsleeponaplankwithafetterwhosecoldtouchyouwillfeelonyourfleshallnightlong，rivetedtoyourlimbs。
　　Youwillbreakthosefetters，youwillflee。Thatiswell。
　　Youwillcrawlonyourbellythroughthebrushwood，andyouwilleatgrasslikethebeastsoftheforest。Andyouwillberecaptured。
　　Andthenyouwillpassyearsinadungeon，rivetedtoawall，gropingforyourjugthatyoumaydrink，gnawingatahorribleloafofdarknesswhichdogswouldnottouch，eatingbeansthatthewormshaveeatenbeforeyou。Youwillbeawood—louseinacellar。Ah！Havepityonyourself，youmiserableyoungchild，whoweresuckingatnurselessthantwentyyearsago，andwhohave，nodoubt，amotherstillalive！Iconjureyou，listentome，Ientreatyou。Youdesirefineblackcloth，varnishedshoes，tohaveyourhaircurledandsweet—smellingoilsonyourlocks，topleaselowwomen，tobehandsome。Youwillbeshavenclean，andyouwillweararedblouseandwoodenshoes。Youwantringsonyourfingers，youwillhaveanironneckletonyourneck。
　　Ifyouglanceatawoman，youwillreceiveablow。Andyouwillenterthereattheageoftwenty。Andyouwillcomeoutatfifty！
　　Youwillenteryoung，rosy，fresh，withbrillianteyes，andallyourwhiteteeth，andyourhandsome，youthfulhair；youwillcomeoutbroken，bent，wrinkled，toothless，horrible，withwhitelocks！
　　Ah！mypoorchild，youareonthewrongroad；idlenessiscounsellingyoubadly；thehardestofallworkisthieving。
　　Believeme，donotundertakethatpainfulprofessionofanidleman。
　　Itisnotcomfortabletobecomearascal。Itislessdisagreeabletobeanhonestman。Nowgo，andponderonwhatIhavesaidtoyou。Bytheway，whatdidyouwantofme？Mypurse？Hereitis。"
　　Andtheoldman，releasingMontparnasse，puthispurseinthelatter’shand；Montparnasseweigheditforamoment，afterwhichheallowedittoslidegentlyintothebackpocketofhiscoat，withthesamemechanicalprecautionasthoughhehadstolenit。
　　Allthishavingbeensaidanddone，thegoodmanturnedhisbackandtranquillyresumedhisstroll。
　　"Theblockhead！"mutteredMontparnasse。
　　Whowasthisgoodman？Thereaderhas，nodoubt，alreadydivined。
　　Montparnassewatchedhimwithamazement，ashedisappearedinthedusk。
　　Thiscontemplationwasfataltohim。
　　Whiletheoldmanwaswalkingaway，Gavrochedrewnear。
　　Gavrochehadassuredhimself，withasidelongglance，thatFatherMabeufwasstillsittingonhisbench，probablysoundasleep。
　　Thenthegaminemergedfromhisthicket，andbegantocrawlafterMontparnasseinthedark，asthelatterstoodtheremotionless。
　　InthismannerhecameuptoMontparnassewithoutbeingseenorheard，gentlyinsinuatedhishandintothebackpocketofthatfrock—coatoffineblackcloth，seizedthepurse，withdrewhishand，andhavingrecourseoncemoretohiscrawling，heslippedawaylikeanadderthroughtheshadows。Montparnasse，whohadnoreasontobeonhisguard，andwhowasengagedinthoughtforthefirsttimeinhislife，perceivednothing。WhenGavrochehadoncemoreattainedthepointwhereFatherMabeufwas，heflungthepurseoverthehedge，andfledasfastashislegswouldcarryhim。