按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
recently traversed。
The usher had left him alone。
The supreme moment had arrived。 He sought to collect his faculties； but could not。
It is chiefly at the moment when there is the greatest need for attaching them to the painful realities of life； that the threads of thought snap within the brain。
He was in the very place where the judges deliberated and condemned。
With stupid tranquillity he surveyed this peaceful and terrible apartment； where so many lives had been broken； which was soon to ring with his name； and which his fate was at that moment traversing。
He stared at the wall； then he looked at himself； wondering that it should be that chamber and that it should be he。
He had eaten nothing for four and twenty hours； he was worn out by the jolts of the cart； but he was not conscious of it。 It seemed to him that he felt nothing。
He approached a black frame which was suspended on the wall； and which contained； under glass； an ancient autograph letter of Jean Nicolas Pache； mayor of Paris and minister； and dated； through an error； no doubt； the 9th of June； of the year II。； and in which Pache forwarded to the mune the list of ministers and deputies held in arrest by them。
Any spectator who had chanced to see him at that moment； and who had watched him； would have imagined； doubtless； that this letter struck him as very curious； for he did not take his eyes from it； and he read it two or three times。 He read it without paying any attention to it； and unconsciously。 He was thinking of Fantine and Cosette。
As he dreamed； he turned round； and his eyes fell upon the brass knob of the door which separated him from the Court of Assizes。 He had almost forgotten that door。
His glance； calm at first； paused there； remained fixed on that brass handle； then grew terrified； and little by little became impregnated with fear。
Beads of perspiration burst forth among his hair and trickled down upon his temples。
At a certain moment he made that indescribable gesture of a sort of authority mingled with rebellion； which is intended to convey； and which does so well convey； 〃Pardieu！ who pels me to this？〃 Then he wheeled briskly round； caught sight of the door through which he had entered in front of him； went to it； opened it； and passed out。 He was no longer in that chamber； he was outside in a corridor； a long； narrow corridor； broken by steps and gratings； making all sorts of angles； lighted here and there by lanterns similar to the night taper of invalids； the corridor through which he had approached。 He breathed； he listened； not a sound in front； not a sound behind him； and he fled as though pursued。
When he had turned many angles in this corridor； he still listened。 The same silence reigned； and there was the same darkness around him。 He was out of breath； he staggered； he leaned against the wall。 The stone was cold； the perspiration lay ice…cold on his brow； he straightened himself up with a shiver。
Then； there alone in the darkness； trembling with cold and with something else； too； perchance； he meditated。
He had meditated all night long； he had meditated all the day： he heard within him but one voice； which said； 〃Alas！〃
A quarter of an hour passed thus。
At length he bowed his head； sighed with agony； dropped his arms； and retraced his steps。 He walked slowly； and as though crushed。
It seemed as though some one had overtaken him in his flight and was leading him back。
He re…entered the council…chamber。 The first thing he caught sight of was the knob of the door。
This knob； which was round and of polished brass； shone like a terrible star for him。 He gazed at it as a lamb might gaze into the eye of a tiger。
He could not take his eyes from it。
From time to time he advanced a step and approached the door。
Had he listened； he would have heard the sound of the adjoining hall like a sort of confused murmur； but he did not listen； and he did not hear。
Suddenly； without himself knowing how it happened； he found himself near the door； he grasped the knob convulsively； the door opened。
He was in the court…room。
BOOK SEVENTH。THE CHAMPMATHIEU AFFAIR
CHAPTER IX
A PLACE WHERE CONVICTIONS ARE IN PROCESS OF FORMATION
He advanced a pace； closed the door mechanically behind him； and remained standing； contemplating what he saw。
It was a vast and badly lighted apartment； now full of uproar； now full of silence； where all the apparatus of a criminal case； with its petty and mournful gravity in the midst of the throng； was in process of development。
At the one end of the hall； the one where he was； were judges； with abstracted air； in threadbare robes； who were gnawing their nails or closing their eyelids； at the other end； a ragged crowd； lawyers in all sorts of attitudes； soldiers with hard but honest faces； ancient； spotted woodwork； a dirty ceiling； tables covered with serge that was yellow rather than green； doors blackened by handmarks； tap…room lamps which emitted more smoke than light； suspended from nails in the wainscot； on the tables candles in brass candlesticks； darkness； ugliness； sadness； and from all this there was disengaged an austere and august impression； for one there felt that grand human thing which is called the law； and that grand divine thing which is called justice。
No one in all that throng paid any attention to him； all glances were directed towards a single point； a wooden bench placed against a small door； in the stretch of wall on the President's left； on this bench； illuminated by several candles； sat a man between two gendarmes。
This man was the man。
He did not seek him； he saw him； his eyes went thither naturally； as though they had known beforehand where that figure was。
He thought he was looking at himself； grown old； not absolutely the same in face； of course； but exactly similar in attitude and aspect； with his bristling hair； with that wild and uneasy eye； with that blouse； just as it was on the day when he entered D； full of hatred； concealing his soul in that hideous mass of frightful thoughts which he had spent nineteen years in collecting