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！
One evening； as Jean Valjean was passing by； when he had not Cosette with him； he saw the beggar in his usual place； beneath the lantern which had just been lighted。
The man seemed engaged in prayer； according to his custom； and was much bent over。
Jean Valjean stepped up to him and placed his customary alms in his hand。 The mendicant raised his eyes suddenly； stared intently at Jean Valjean； then dropped his head quickly。
This movement was like a flash of lightning。
Jean Valjean was seized with a shudder。 It seemed to him that he had just caught sight； by the light of the street lantern； not of the placid and beaming visage of the old beadle； but of a well…known and startling face。 He experienced the same impression that one would have on finding one's self； all of a sudden； face to face； in the dark； with a tiger。 He recoiled； terrified； petrified； daring neither to breathe； to speak； to remain； nor to flee； staring at the beggar who had dropped his head； which was enveloped in a rag； and no longer appeared to know that he was there。
At this strange moment； an instinct possibly the mysterious instinct of self…preservation；restrained Jean Valjean from uttering a word。
The beggar had the same figure； the same rags； the same appearance as he had every day。
〃Bah！〃 said Jean Valjean； 〃I am mad！
I am dreaming！
Impossible！〃
And he returned profoundly troubled。
He hardly dared to confess； even to himself； that the face which he thought he had seen was the face of Javert。
That night； on thinking the matter over； he regretted not having questioned the man； in order to force him to raise his head a second time。
On the following day； at nightfall； he went back。
The beggar was at his post。
〃Good day； my good man；〃 said Jean Valjean； resolutely； handing him a sou。
The beggar raised his head； and replied in a whining voice； 〃Thanks； my good sir。〃
It was unmistakably the ex…beadle。
Jean Valjean felt pletely reassured。
He began to laugh。 〃How the deuce could I have thought that I saw Javert there？〃 he thought。
〃Am I going to lose my eyesight now？〃
And he thought no more about it。
A few days afterwards；it might have been at eight o'clock in the evening；he was in his room； and engaged in making Cosette spell aloud； when he heard the house door open and then shut again。 This struck him as singular。
The old woman； who was the only inhabitant of the house except himself； always went to bed at nightfall； so that she might not burn out her candles。
Jean Valjean made a sign to Cosette to be quiet。
He heard some one ascending the stairs。 It might possibly be the old woman； who might have fallen ill and have been out to the apothecary's。 Jean Valjean listened。
The step was heavy； and sounded like that of a man； but the old woman wore stout shoes； and there is nothing which so strongly resembles the step of a man as that of an old woman。
Nevertheless； Jean Valjean blew out his candle。
He had sent Cosette to bed； saying to her in a low voice； 〃Get into bed very softly〃； and as he kissed her brow； the steps paused。
Jean Valjean remained silent； motionless； with his back towards the door； seated on the chair from which he had not stirred； and holding his breath in the dark。
After the expiration of a rather long interval； he turned round； as he heard nothing more； and； as he raised his eyes towards the door of his chamber； he saw a light through the keyhole。
This light formed a sort of sinister star in the blackness of the door and the wall。 There was evidently some one there； who was holding a candle in his hand and listening。
Several minutes elapsed thus； and the light retreated。
But he heard no sound of footsteps； which seemed to indicate that the person who had been listening at the door had removed his shoes。
Jean Valjean threw himself； all dressed as he was； on his bed； and could not close his eyes all night。
At daybreak； just as he was falling into a doze through fatigue； he was awakened by the creaking of a door which opened on some attic at the end of the corridor； then he heard the same masculine footstep which had ascended the stairs on the preceding evening。 The step was approaching。
He sprang off the bed and applied his eye to the keyhole； which was tolerably large； hoping to see the person who had made his way by night into the house and had listened at his door； as he passed。
It was a man； in fact； who passed； this time without pausing； in front of Jean Valjean's chamber。
The corridor was too dark to allow of the person's face being distinguished； but when the man reached the staircase； a ray of light from without made it stand out like a silhouette； and Jean Valjean had a plete view of his back。
The man was of lofty stature； clad in a long frock…coat； with a cudgel under his arm。
The formidable neck and shoulders belonged to Javert。
Jean Valjean might have attempted to catch another glimpse of him through his window opening on the boulevard； but he would have been obliged to open the window：
he dared not。
It was evident that this man had entered with a key； and like himself。 Who had given him that key？
What was the meaning of this？
When the old woman came to do the work； at seven o'clock in the morning； Jean Valjean cast a penetrating glance on her； but he did not question her。
The good woman appeared as usual。
As she swept up she remarked to him：
〃Possibly Monsieur may have heard some one e in last night？〃
At that age； and on that boulevard； eight o'clock in the evening was the dead of the night。
〃That is true； by the way；〃 he replied； in the most natural tone possible。
〃Who was it？〃
〃It was a new lodger who has e into the house；〃 said the old woman。
〃And what is his name？〃
〃I don't know exactly； Dumont； or Daumont； or some name of that sort。〃
〃And who is this Monsieur Dumont？〃
The old woman gazed at him with her little polecat eyes； and answered：
〃A gentleman of property； like yourself。〃
Perhaps she had no ulterior meaning。
Jean Valjean thought