Les miserables (Abridged) - Victor Hugo [438]
“I am very angry.”
The door closed again and the darkness returned.
It was like a stray sunbeam which, without suspecting it, should have suddenly traversed the night.
Marius made sure that the door was well closed.
“Poor Cosette!” murmured he, “when she knows——”
At these words, Jean Valjean trembled in every limb. He fixed upon Marius a bewildered eye.
“Cosette! Oh, yes, it is true, you will tell this to Cosette. That is right. Stop, I had not thought of that. People have the strength for some things, but not for others. Monsieur, I beseech you, I entreat you, Monsieur, give me your most sacred word, do not tell her. Is it not enough that you know it yourself? I could have told it by myself without being forced to it, I would have told it to the universe, to all the world, that would be nothing to me. But she, she doesn’t know what it is, it would appall her. A convict, why! you would have to explain it to her, to tell her: It is a man who has been in the galleys. She saw the chain pass by one day. Oh, my God!”
He sank into an arm-chair and hid his face in both hands. He could not be heard, but by the shaking of his shoulders it could be seen that he was weeping. Silent tears, terrible tears.
There is a stifling in the sob. A sort of convulsion seized him, he bent over upon the back of the arm-chair as if to breathe, letting his arms hang down and allowing Marius to see his face bathed in tears, and Marius heard him murmur so low that his voice seemed to come from a bottomless depth: “Oh! would that I could die!”
“Don’t worry,” said Marius, “I will keep your secret for myself alone.”
And, less softened perhaps than he should have been, but obliged for an hour past to familiarise himself with a fearful surprise, seeing by degrees a convict superimposed before his eyes upon M. Fauchelevent, possessed little by little of this dismal reality, and led by the natural tendency of the position to determine the distance which had just been put between this man and himself, Marius added:
“It is impossible that I should not say a word to you of the trust which you have so faithfully and so honestly restored. That is an act of probity. It is just that a recompense should be given you. Fix the sum yourself, it shall be counted out to you. Do not be afraid to fix it very high.”
“I thank you, monsieur,” answered Jean Valjean gently.
He remained thoughtful a moment, passing the end of his forefinger over his thumb-nail mechanically, then he raised his voice:
“It is all nearly finished. There is one thing left——”
“What?”
Jean Valjean had as it were a supreme hesitation, and, voiceless, almost breathless, he faltered out rather than said:
“Now that you know, do you think, monsieur, you who are the master, that I ought not to see Cosette again?”
“I think that would be best,” answered Marius coldly.
“I shall not see her again,” murmured Jean Valjean.
And he walked towards the door.
He placed his hand upon the knob, the latch yielded, the door started, Jean Valjean opened it wide enough to enable him to pass out, stopped a second motionless, then shut the door, and turned towards Marius.
He was no longer pale, he was livid. There were no longer tears in his eyes, but a sort of tragical flame. His voice had again become strangely calm.
“But, monsieur,” said he, “if you are willing, I will come and see her. I assure you that I desire it very much. If I had not clung to seeing Cosette, I should not have made the avowal which I have made, I should have gone away; but wishing to stay in the place where Cosette is and to continue to see her, I was compelled in honour to tell you all. You follow my reasoning, do you not? that is a thing which explains itself. You see, for nine years past, I have had her near me. We lived first in that ruin on the boulevard, then in the convent, then near the Luxembourg Gardens. It was there that you saw her for the first time. You remember her blue plush hat. We were afterwards in the neighborhood of the Invalides