Chapter 297 A blotter, telltale paper

What are the spasms of a city compared with the horrors of the soul?The depth of the human heart is greater than that of the people.Jean Valjean's heart was at this time suffering a terrible torment.The old precipices and valleys reappeared before his eyes one after another.Like Paris, he was trembling on the brink of a terrible and unpredictable revolution.A few hours were enough for his fate and mood to be suddenly cast into shadows.For him, as for Paris, we may say that two currents of thought are at war.The white angel and the black angel are about to fight hand-to-hand on the bridge at the top of the cliff.Which of the two will throw the other down?Who will win?

On the eve of the 5th of June, Jean Valjean moved to the Rue des Warriors, accompanied by Cosette and Toussaint.A sharp transformation was waiting for him there. It was not that Cosette did not try to hinder her before leaving the Rue Plumet.For the first time since they had lived together, there was at least a contradiction, if not a conflict, between the will of Cosette and that of Jean Valjean.On the one hand, it is unwilling to move, on the other hand, it is necessary to move.A sudden advice from someone he doesn't know to "move quickly" is enough to scare him and turn him into a stickler.He thought his secret had been discovered and someone was hunting him.Cosette had no choice but to give in.

On the way to Wuren Street, they gritted their teeth and didn't say a word to each other, each thinking about their own thoughts.Jean Valjean was so worried that he couldn't see Cosette's sorrow, and Cosette's heart was broken, and he couldn't see Jean Valjean's worry. Jean Valjean took Toussaint with him, as he had never done before when he left home.He estimated that he would not return to the Rue Plumet again, that he could neither leave her nor tell her his secret.He felt that she was faithful and trustworthy, and that a servant's betrayal of his master often began with meddling.And Toussaint doesn't mind her own business, as if she was born to be a servant for Jean Valjean.She stuttered, and spoke in the vernacular of a Barnville country woman, who used to say, "I'm all the same, I pull my work, and the tail is none of my business." ("That's what I am, I do my work live, and the rest has nothing to do with me.”)

This time he left the Rue de Plumet almost in a hurry, and Jean Valjean carried nothing but the fragrant suitcase which Cosette used to call "inseparable".If you want to move a large box full of things, you must find a moving agent, and the agent is also a witness.They hired a streetcar at Babylon Street and went on like this. Toussaint obtained permission with difficulty, and packed a few changes of clothes, dresses, and toiletry.Cosette herself brought only her stationery and blotters. Jean Valjean, in order to conceal as much as possible and avoid publicity, also made a time arrangement, and did not leave the building in the Rue Plumet until dark, which gave Cosette time to write the letter to Marius.It was completely dark when they reached Warrior Street.

Everyone fell asleep quietly. The house on Martial Arts Street faced the backyard. On the first floor, there were two bedrooms, a dining room and a kitchen connected to the dining room, and a small house with a sloping roof and a hammock inside. , that is, Dusan's couch.The dining room, which doubles as a sitting room, is located between the two bedrooms.The entire set of households is equipped with household appliances necessary for daily use. People will bother themselves inexplicably without any reason, and they will also be lenient without reason for no reason. Human nature is born like this.Not long after Jean Valjean had moved to the Rue des Armées, his anxiety had lessened and gradually disappeared.Certain quiet environments seem to affect a person's mental state.Dark street, peaceful houses, Jean Valjean felt as if he had been infected by the tranquil atmosphere in this little street of old Paris, so narrow that a horizontal plank fastened to two columns, Blocking the vehicles, there is silence in the hustle and bustle of the city, and there is only dim sunlight in the daytime. Two rows of high-rise buildings over a hundred years old, like aging old people, face each other silently. It seems that in this environment, people's emotions Has lost the ability to excite.In this street people are forgetful, think and remember nothing.Jean Valjean felt nothing but relief in living here.Is there a way to get him out of this place?

His first concern is to keep that "inseparable" thing close to his hand. He slept soundly through the night.As the saying goes, the night makes a man sober, and we might add that the night makes a man sober.The next morning, he woke up almost cheerful.The dining-room was ugly, with an old round table, a cupboard with a mirror hanging diagonally, a worm-eaten armchair, and some armchairs piled high with Toussaint's baggage. Jean Valjean, seeing such a room, found it beautiful.One of the bundles was open, revealing Jean Valjean's National Guard uniform. As for Cosette, she remained in her bedroom, and did not appear until evening, when Toussaint brought her a pot of broth.

Toussaint had been busy all day with this little removal, and at about five o'clock she put a plate of cold chicken on the table, and Cosette, out of deference to her father, consented to see it. glance. Having done this, Cosette said good-night to Jean Valjean on the pretext of suffering from a headache, and retired to her bedroom.Jean Valjean ate a chicken wing with relish. After eating, he leaned his elbows on the table, his mood gradually brightened, and he regained his sense of security. Twice or three times during the modest supper he heard Toussaint say vaguely to him: "Monsieur, there's a commotion outside, there's a fight in Paris." But he was thinking something else. West, did not ask these things.To be honest, he didn't listen.

He stood up and began to walk back and forth from the window to the door and from the door to the window, feeling more and more calm. In this peaceful frame of mind his thoughts returned to Cosette, the only person whom he had been troubled by.It wasn't her headache that he was thinking about, it was just a little nervous ailment, the idleness of the girls, the temporary dark clouds that would dissipate in a day or two, and what he was thinking about at the moment was the future, And, as usual, the thought of it brought him a little joy.In short, he saw no obstacle to the continuation of their restored happy life.At times it seemed impossible, at other times it seemed all right, and Jean Valjean had that joyful feeling that everything is possible.Such optimistic thoughts often follow moments of distress, just as day follows night.This is originally the inherent law of positive and negative rotation in nature, which is the kind of comparison method that superficial people call.Jean Valjean, hiding in this quiet street, was gradually getting rid of all the troubles that had lately disturbed him.What he imagined was darkness, but now he began to see the clear light.It was a great blessing to be able to leave the Rue Plumet this time without incident.It might be wise to go abroad and spend some time in London, if only for a few months.Stay in France or stay in England, what difference does it make?As long as Cosette is around.Cosette was his country.Cosette could guarantee his happiness.As for him, could he guarantee Cosette's happiness?This was a problem that had caused him anxiety and insomnia in the past, but now he didn't think about it at all.All the pain he had felt before was gone, and he was now in a state of perfect optimism.From his point of view, since Cosette was by his side, she belonged to him, and everyone had the experience of treating the appearance as the essence.He contemplated taking Cosette to England with the greatest lightness in his mind, and saw, through the pictures of his fantasies, that his happiness was possible anywhere.

He was walking back and forth slowly when his sight suddenly caught something strange. In front of the cupboard, he saw the following lines clearly reflected in the mirror leaning over the cupboard: Jean Valjean was suddenly taken aback by surprise. On arriving home last night, Cosette had placed her blotter-book before the mirror on the cupboard, and in the midst of her misery she had left it there and forgotten it, without even noticing that she had let it. It was there open, and the page that was open happened to be the page on which she had blotted the ink after writing the lines in Rue Plumet.Only then did she let the young worker passing by the Rue Plumet deliver it.The handwriting on the letter was all printed on the blotting paper.

The mirror reflected the handwriting again. As a result, the symmetrical image called in geometry was produced. The writing on the blotting paper was reflected in the mirror. What appeared before Jean Valjean was the letter that Cosette wrote to Marius last night. letter. It's very simple yet extremely amazing. Jean Valjean went to the mirror.He reread the lines, but couldn't believe it.He seemed to see the words emerging from the light of the lightning.It was an illusion.That is impossible.That doesn't exist. Slowly, his feelings became clearer.He looked at Cosette's blotting-paper and gradually regained his sense of reality.He took the blotting-paper in his hand, and said, "That's where it comes from." He looked at the lines on the blotting-paper with great agitation, and wondered how clumsy and strange the image of the reversed letters was, It really doesn't make any sense.So he said to himself: "But this doesn't mean anything, this can't be written." He took a deep breath and felt an indescribable relief in his chest.Who has not experienced such blind joy in moments of fright and confusion?The soul does not surrender to disappointment until the illusion is completely shattered.

He took the blotter and kept looking at it, feeling so dazedly lucky that he almost laughed that he should be fooled by the delusion.Suddenly, his eyes fell on the mirror again, and he saw the reflection in the mirror again.A few lines of words appeared mercilessly clearly in the mirror, and this moment can no longer be regarded as an illusion.The illusion that is wrong again and again can only be true, which is tangible and visible, and this is the handwritten text reflected in the mirror.He gets it. Jean Valjean stumbled, the blotter fell, and he collapsed in an old armchair by the cupboard, with his head bowed, his eyes dejected, and not knowing what to do.It was obvious, he said to himself, that the sun would never be seen again in this world, and that must have been written to someone by Cosette.He heard his soul, and it flew into a rage, and howled again in the darkness.Go and get back the pet dog that fell into the lion cage! What is strange and lamentable is that Marius had not received Cosette's letter at this time, but chance leaked the information in the letter to Jean Valjean before Marius knew it. Jean Valjean had hitherto never fallen before a trial.Fearful temptations he endured, adversity tormented, persecution of the law, cruel abandonment of society, cruelty of fate, all aimed at him, besieged him, but he never backed down or yielded.He also suffered, when necessary, heinous brutality, he sacrificed his restored inviolability, he surrendered his liberty, he risked his beheading, he lost everything, he endured everything, he became a self-sacrificing man. So inspiring and aloof, that he is sometimes thought to be as selfless as a martyr.His conscience seems to be impeccable after undergoing all kinds of sufferings, but if anyone penetrates into the depths of his heart, he has to admit that his state of mind is not so calm at this moment. of. This was because of all the tortures he had suffered during the many interrogations that fate had brought upon him, the present one being the most horrific.He had never encountered such a pinch squeeze before.He felt his deepest emotions also wandering in the dark.He felt the agony of heartbreak like he had never felt in his life.Alas, the most severe test in life, it should be said, the only severe test is to watch a loved one who is about to be lost. Of course, poor old Jean Valjean's love for Cosette was only the love of father and daughter, but, as we have pointed out earlier, this kind of father love was also mixed with his situation of being without relatives and spouse. And the other loves that arose, he loved Cosette as a daughter, as a mother, as a sister, and, as he had never had a mistress, never had a wife, As man is by nature like a creditor who refuses to accept a bill of disobedience, this sentiment--a sentiment of the most indestructible--is mingled with other shadowy, bewildering, chaste, blind, ignorant, innocent, Among the emotions that are as outstanding as angels and holy as gods, it is said that it is emotion, but it is more like instinct, and it is called instinct, but it is more like charm. It is indistinguishable from the invisible, but it is real. This love, to be precise, lay in the immense kindness he felt for Cosette, as in the dark and untouched veins of gold hidden in the mountains. The reader is invited to recall this state of mind which we have already pointed out.No union was possible between them, not even a union of souls, and yet they depended on each other.Apart from Cosette, that is to say, except a child, Jean Valjean knew nothing to love during the long years of his life.For people in their fifties, everyone has the kind of love that follows a passionate love affair, just like leaves in winter, which turn from light green to dark green, but Jean Valjean never experienced this change in his heart.In short, we have said more than once that this unity of heart, this unity of noble virtues, can only make Jean Valjean the father of Cosette.This father was formed by Jean Valjean's inherent love of grandparents, father and daughter, brother and sister, and husband and wife. There is even maternal love among the father's love. This father loves Cosette and worships Cosette. She regards this child as light, as a shelter, as a family, as a motherland, as a paradise. Therefore, when he saw that everything was going to be shattered, she was going to slip away, she was going to slip out of his grasp, she was going to escape, everything was like a cloud of smoke, everything was in vain, what was in front of him was such a heart-piercing Situation: Her heart already belongs, she has entrusted her lifelong happiness to another person, she already has someone she loves, and I am just a father, I no longer exist.When he could no longer doubt, when he said to himself, "She is leaving my heart and going away," he felt more pain than he could bear.Think about how he tried his best at the beginning, but in the end he ended up with such a result!And, what more is there to say!Nothing!At this moment, as we have just said, he trembled from head to toe with rage.From the root of his hair, he also felt that his former strong solipsism had been awakened. "I" wailed again in the depths of the man's heart. Heartbreak is common.Thoughts that are believed to be the end of the road, once infiltrated into the mind, must split and destroy some element in the man's soul, and these elements are often himself.When suffering has reached this degree, the power of conscience is defeated.Here is the critical moment of life and death.Among us, there are not many people who can stand still, persist in correct views, and overcome difficulties.If you can't overcome pain, you can't preserve Lingde.Jean Valjean took up the blotting-paper again, wishing to confirm once more that the lines were undeniable after all, he stood motionless with bowed head, staring eyes, smoky and confused, It seems that this person's inner world has completely collapsed. He studied this exposure under the magnificence of his imagination, and he looked terribly still, for it is terrific when one is as cold as a statue. He weighed the astonishing step his fate had taken without his knowing it, and he recalled the doubt he had had last summer, and it was with difficulty that he dispelled it, and this time he saw the precipice again, It was the same, but Jean Valjean was no longer at the mouth of the cave, but at the bottom. The situation is unprecedented and distressing.Knowing nothing, he fell to the bottom of the cave.All the light of his life was extinguished, and he would never see the light of day again. He instinctively felt that he connected and analyzed certain situations, certain dates, certain blushes on Cosette's face, and certain blushes, and said to himself: "That's him." Disappointed. Guessing in the middle is a kind of arrow that hits everything.He guessed Marius at once.He didn't know the name yet, but he had found the man.In the relentless tracing of his memory, he saw clearly that suspicious stranger wandering in the Luxembourg Gardens, that toad who wanted to eat swan meat, that idler, that fool, The scoundrel, because only scoundrels come and wink at a girl with her father's loving company. When he realized that there was such a young man behind this incident, he, Jean Valjean, who had worked hard to reform his soul, tried his best to make up for all the suffering and all the injustices he had suffered in his life. The treatment has been turned into benevolence, and the person who has allowed himself to be a new man, now looks back at his heart, but sees a ghost: hatred. Great pain can debilitate a person.It makes people pessimistic and hopeless.People who have suffered greatly feel something come back to them.Great pain grieves a man when he is young, but it kills him in old age.Alas, when the blood is still hot, when the hair is still black, when the head is still standing upright on the shoulders like the flame of a torch, when the fate book has not turned a few pages, there is still a big pile, and the heart is still full of love and admiration, The beating can also resonate in the hearts of others, and the future after repentance and rehabilitation, women are still smiling at themselves, the future is great, the vision is vast, and the vitality is still fully abundant. At this time, it is a terrible thing to be disappointed , then, when the years are flying by, people are old, dusk is approaching, the afterglow is fading, the twilight is dim, and the stars on the tomb are already disappointed, what will it be? Dusan came in while he was meditating.Jean Valjean rose, and asked her: "Which side is it? Do you know?" Dusan was stunned, and could only answer like this: "Excuse me..." Jean Valjean continued: "Didn't you tell me first that there was a fight?" "Ah! Yes, sir," replied Toussaint, "by Saint-Merry." Our most secret thoughts impelled us unconsciously to that mechanical action by which Jean Valjean, without being quite aware of it, was five minutes later in the street. . He was bald, sitting on the parapet stone plinth in front of his house.He seemed to be listening. it's getting dark.