This was the last drop of anguish.
Of what was he thinking during this profound depression? Neither of himself nor of Marius. He was thinking of Cosette.
CHAPTER VIII--THE TORN COAT-TAIL
In the midst of this prostration, a hand was laid on his shoulder, and a low voice said to him:
"Half shares."
Some person in that gloom? Nothing so closely resembles a dream as despair. Jean Valjean thought that he was dreaming. He had heard no footsteps. Was it possible? He raised his eyes.
A man stood before him.
This man was clad in a blouse; his feet were bare; he held his shoes in his left hand; he had evidently removed them in order to reach Jean Valjean, without allowing his steps to be heard.
Jean Valjean did not hesitate for an instant. Unexpected as was this encounter, this man was known to him. The man was Thenardier.
Although awakened, so to speak, with a start, Jean Valjean, accustomed to alarms, and steeled to unforeseen shocks that must be promptly parried, instantly regained possession of his presence of mind.
Moreover, the situation could not be made worse, a certain degree of distress is no longer capable of a crescendo, and Thenardier himself could add nothing to this blackness of this night.
A momentary pause ensued.
Thenardier, raising his right hand to a level with his forehead, formed with it a shade, then he brought his eyelashes together, by s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up his eyes, a motion which, in connection with a slight contraction of the mouth, characterizes the sagacious attention of a man who is endeavoring to recognize another man. He did not succeed. Jean Valjean, as we have just stated, had his back turned to the light, and he was, moreover, so disfigured, so bemired, so bleeding that he would have been unrecognizable in full noonday. On the contrary, illuminated by the light from the grating, a cellar light, it is true, livid, yet precise in its lividness, Thenardier, as the energetic popular metaphor expresses it, immediately "leaped into" Jean Valjean"s eyes. This inequality of conditions sufficed to a.s.sure some advantage to Jean Valjean in that mysterious duel which was on the point of beginning between the two situations and the two men. The encounter took place between Jean Valjean veiled and Thenardier unmasked.
Jean Valjean immediately perceived that Thenardier did not recognize him.
They surveyed each other for a moment in that half-gloom, as though taking each other"s measure. Thenardier was the first to break the silence.
"How are you going to manage to get out?"
Jean Valjean made no reply. Thenardier continued:
"It"s impossible to pick the lock of that gate. But still you must get out of this."
"That is true," said Jean Valjean.
"Well, half shares then."
"What do you mean by that?"
"You have killed that man; that"s all right. I have the key."
Thenardier pointed to Marius. He went on:
"I don"t know you, but I want to help you. You must be a friend."
Jean Valjean began to comprehend. Thenardier took him for an a.s.sa.s.sin.
Thenardier resumed:
"Listen, comrade. You didn"t kill that man without looking to see what he had in his pockets. Give me my half. I"ll open the door for you."
And half drawing from beneath his tattered blouse a huge key, he added:
"Do you want to see how a key to liberty is made? Look here."
Jean Valjean "remained stupid"--the expression belongs to the elder Corneille--to such a degree that he doubted whether what he beheld was real. It was providence appearing in horrible guise, and his good angel springing from the earth in the form of Thenardier.
Thenardier thrust his fist into a large pocket concealed under his blouse, drew out a rope and offered it to Jean Valjean.
"Hold on," said he, "I"ll give you the rope to boot."
"What is the rope for?"
"You will need a stone also, but you can find one outside. There"s a heap of rubbish."
"What am I to do with a stone?"
"Idiot, you"ll want to sling that stiff into the river, you"ll need a stone and a rope, otherwise it would float on the water."
Jean Valjean took the rope. There is no one who does not occasionally accept in this mechanical way.
Thenardier snapped his fingers as though an idea had suddenly occurred to him.
"Ah, see here, comrade, how did you contrive to get out of that slough yonder? I haven"t dared to risk myself in it. Phew! you don"t smell good."
After a pause he added:
"I"m asking you questions, but you"re perfectly right not to answer.
It"s an apprenticeship against that cursed quarter of an hour before the examining magistrate. And then, when you don"t talk at all, you run no risk of talking too loud. That"s no matter, as I can"t see your face and as I don"t know your name, you are wrong in supposing that I don"t know who you are and what you want. I twig. You"ve broken up that gentleman a bit; now you want to tuck him away somewhere. The river, that great hider of folly, is what you want. I"ll get you out of your sc.r.a.pe.
Helping a good fellow in a pinch is what suits me to a hair."
While expressing his approval of Jean Valjean"s silence, he endeavored to force him to talk. He jostled his shoulder in an attempt to catch a sight of his profile, and he exclaimed, without, however, raising his tone:
"Apropos of that quagmire, you"re a hearty animal. Why didn"t you toss the man in there?"
Jean Valjean preserved silence.
Thenardier resumed, pushing the rag which served him as a cravat to the level of his Adam"s apple, a gesture which completes the capable air of a serious man:
"After all, you acted wisely. The workmen, when they come to-morrow to stop up that hole, would certainly have found the stiff abandoned there, and it might have been possible, thread by thread, straw by straw, to pick up the scent and reach you. Some one has pa.s.sed through the sewer.
Who? Where did he get out? Was he seen to come out? The police are full of cleverness. The sewer is treacherous and tells tales of you. Such a find is a rarity, it attracts attention, very few people make use of the sewers for their affairs, while the river belongs to everybody. The river is the true grave. At the end of a month they fish up your man in the nets at Saint-Cloud. Well, what does one care for that? It"s carrion! Who killed that man? Paris. And justice makes no inquiries. You have done well."
The more loquacious Thenardier became, the more mute was Jean Valjean.
Again Thenardier shook him by the shoulder.