Chapter 337 Seven failed when people thought they could go ashore

He was on the road again. Besides, if he didn't lose his life in the pit, he seemed to feel that his strength was exhausted there.The last push had worn him out, and now he was leaning against the wall for breath every two or three steps.Once he had to sit on a bench to change Marius' position, and he thought he was going to stay there immobile.Although he lost his physical strength, his perseverance remained intact.So he stood up again. He was walking desperately, almost very fast, walking hundreds of steps without raising his head, barely breathing, when suddenly he hit the wall.He got to the corner of the gutter and hit the wall because he got his head down to the turn.He looked up, and at the end of the ditch, far, far ahead of him, he saw a light, this time, it was not an ominous light, but an auspicious white light, the light of day.

Jean Valjean saw the exit. A soul who has fallen into hell, in the burning furnace, suddenly sees the exit of hell, this is Jean Valjean's feeling.With its burnt wings the soul flew frantically towards the radiant gate.Jean Valjean no longer felt tired, nor felt the weight of Marius; his legs had regained the strength of steel, and instead of walking, he ran.As he approached, the exit became clearer and clearer, a round arch, shorter than the crest of the ditch, and not as wide as the canal, which narrowed as the crest lowered.The exit of this ditch looks like the inside of a funnel, narrowing abhorrently, like a small door in a detention center. It was reasonable in the prison, but it was unreasonable in the ditch, and it was corrected later.

Jean Valjean reached the exit. There he stopped. This is indeed an exit, but you can't get out. The half-round door was closed by a thick iron grate, which seemed to seldom turn on its oxidized hinges, and which was fastened to the stone doorjamb by a thick lock, red with rust, like a great brick.The keyhole was visible, and the thick bar was deeply set in the cross-head of the iron lock. The lock was recognizably a double-turn lock, a type of prison lock that was favored in Paris in the old days. Beyond the iron fence there is the field, the river and the sun, the beach is narrow but walkable, the distant banks, Paris--the abyss where it is easy to hide, the vast horizon, and freedom.On the lower right of the river, the Jena Bridge can still be discerned, and on the upper left, the Invalids Bridge; a suitable place to wait until dark before escaping.This is one of the most secluded areas of Paris, with the boulders across from the river beach.Flies flew in and out of the gaps in the iron bars.

It was roughly half past eight in the evening, and it was getting dark. Jean Valjean placed Marius on the dry place in the ditch beside the wall, and then, going up to the iron bars, he grasped the iron bars with both hands, and shook them wildly, but without shock.The iron gate didn't budge.Jean Valjean seized the iron rods one by one, hoping to dislodge one that was not strong enough to break the lock.But even an iron rod could not be pulled out.Even the teeth on the tiger's gums are not so strong.Without a crowbar, without something to pry, difficulties cannot be overcome.Unable to open the door.

Could it be that he died here?what to do?What will happen?He had run out of strength to retreat, to retrace the dreadful route he had traveled.Besides, how was one to cross this miraculously escaped depression again?After walking through the swale, no police patrols?Of course it was impossible to evade the patrol twice.And, where to go?In what direction?The destination cannot be reached along the slope.Even if another exit can be reached, it may be blocked by a cover or iron fence.No doubt all the exits were thus closed.When I came in, I came across the open iron gate by chance, but the other gates must be closed.Jailbreak will be successful only in prison.

It's all over.Everything Jean Valjean did was of no use, because God forbade it. They were both caught in a dark and gigantic web of death, and Jean Valjean felt the most terrible spider crawling to and fro on the black threads quivering in the darkness. With his back to the iron bars, he fell to the ground, and instead of sitting down, he fell, leaning against Marius, who had not moved, with his head hanging between his knees.There is no way out.He has tasted bitterness. Who was he thinking of in this moment of heavy depression?Not himself, nor Marius, he was thinking of Cosette.