Les miserables (Abridged) - Victor Hugo [461]
At these words, which Jean Valjean now said for the second time, all that was swelling in Marius’ heart found an outlet, he broke forth:
“Cosette, do you hear? that is the way with him! he begs my pardon, and do you know what he has done for me, Cosette? he has saved my life. He has done more. He has given you to me. And, after having saved me, and after having given you to me, Cosette, what did he do with himself? he sacrificed himself. There is the man. And, to me the ungrateful, to me the forgetful, to me the pitiless, to me the guilty, he says: Thanks! Cosette, my whole life passed at the feet of this man would be too little. That barricade, that sewer, that furnace, that cloaca, he went through everything for me, for you, Cosette! He bore me through death in every form which he put aside from me, and which he accepted for himself. All courage, all virtue, all heroism, all sanctity, he has it all, Cosette, that man is an angel!”
“Hush! hush!” said Jean Valjean in a whisper. “Why tell all that?”
“But you!” exclaimed Marius, with a passion in which veneration was mingled, “why have not you told it? It is your fault, too. You save people’s lives, and you hide it from them! You do more, under pretence of unmasking yourself, you calumniate yourself. It is frightful.”
“I told the truth,” answered Jean Valjean.
“No,” replied Marius, “the truth is the whole truth; and you did not tell it. You were Monsieur Madeleine, why not have said so? You had saved Javert, why not have said so? I owe my life to you, why not have said so?”
“Because I thought as you did. I felt that you were right. It was necessary that I should go away. If you had known that affair of the sewer, you would have made me stay with you. I should then have had to keep silent. If I had spoken, it would have embarrassed all.”
“Embarrassed what? embarrassed whom?” replied Marius. “Do you suppose you are going to stay here? We are going to carry you back. Oh! my God! when I think it was by accident that I learned it all! We are going to carry you back. You are a part of us. You are her father and mine. You shall not spend another day in this horrid house. Do not imagine that you will be here to-morrow.”
“To-morrow,” said Jean Valjean, “I shall not be here, but I shall not be at your house.”
“What do you mean?” replied Marius. “Ah now, we shall allow no more journeys. You shall never leave us again. You belong to us. We will not let you go.”
“This time, it is for good,” added Cosette. “We have a carriage below. I am going to carry you off. If necessary, I shall use force.”
And laughing, she made as if she would lift the old man in her arms.
“Your room is still in our house,” she continued. “If you knew how pretty the garden is now. The azalias are growing finely. The paths are sanded with river sand: there are some little violet shells. You shall eat some of my strawberries. I water them myself. And no more madame, and no more Monsieur Jean, we are a republic, are we not, Marius? The programme is changed. If you knew, father, I have had some trouble, there was a red-breast which had made her nest in a hole in the wall, a horrid cat ate her up for me. My poor pretty little red-breast who put her head out at her window and looked at me! I cried over it. I would have killed the cat! But now, nobody cries any more. Everybody laughs, everybody is happy. You are coming with us. How glad grandfather will be! You shall have your bed in the garden, you shall tend it, and we will see if your strawberries are as fine as mine. And then, I will do what ever you wish, and then, you will obey me.”
Jean Valjean listened to her without hearing her. He heard the music of her voice rather than the meaning of her words; one of those big tears which are the gloomy pearls of the soul, gathered slowly in his eye. He murmured:
“The proof that God is good is that she is here.”
“Father!” cried Cosette.
Jean Valjean continued:
“It is very true that it would be charming to live together. They have their trees full of birds. I would walk with Cosette. To be with people who live,