Chapter 339 Marius appears to be dead to the uninitiated

He laid Marius gently on the beach. They are out! The smell of decay, darkness, and terror are behind him.Healthy, pure, fresh, cheerful, free-to-breath air filled his surroundings.There was silence all around, the pleasant silence that comes with the sun setting in the blue sky.When dusk comes and night begins, this is a great savior and a friend to all who need to escape from misery with a black shadow as a coat.The sky is vast and serene, and the river murmurs at his feet like a kiss.You can hear the bird's nest in the elm bushes on the Elysee Square talking in the air and saying good night to each other.A few stars (slightly conspicuous on the bluish zenith, as only the contemplative can see) cast faint, indistinguishable gleams in the boundless sky.Ye spread all the tenderness of Promise on Jean Valjean's head.

This is a wonderful time to distinguish between light and dark. It is already dark, and people can't see clearly from a few steps away, but there is still enough afterglow to distinguish when approaching. For a few seconds Jean Valjean could not help being overwhelmed by that sublime and comforting tranquility, one of those forgetful moments when pain ceases to torment the miserable, when all is lost in thought and peace is like night. Dreaming people are enveloped, in the afterglow of evening, as in the bright sky, the heart is full of stars.Jean Valjean could not help looking up at the vast and bright night above him, fell into meditation, lost himself in prayer and ecstasy in the majestic silence of the eternal firmament, when suddenly, as if returning to his sense of duty, he bent over Marius took some more water in the palm of his hand, and sprinkled a few drops on his face.Marius' eyes were closed, but his half-open mouth was still breathing.

Jean Valjean was just about to put his hand back into the river, when suddenly he felt an inexplicable disturbance, as if someone was behind him, though he had not yet seen it. We have mentioned this familiar feeling elsewhere. He turned his head. Just as before, there was indeed a person behind him. A tall, burly man, wrapped in a long overcoat, with his arms folded on his breast, and holding in his right fist a sap with a plumb-head visible, stood behind Jean Valjean, who was crouching beside Marius. a few steps away. Since in the twilight it is really ghostly, an ordinary person would be afraid to see it at twilight, and a thoughtful person would be afraid of Sap.

Jean Valjean recognized Javert. The reader must have guessed that it was none other than Javert who was chasing Thenardier.Javert, having left the barricade unexpectedly, went to the police station, made an oral report to the superintendent himself, and after a brief interview he was immediately reinstated, whose duties consisted, we shall remember, of the A note to monitor the right river beach of the Elysee Square, which has recently attracted the attention of the public security authorities.There he meets Thenardier and tracks him down.We already know the rest. We also understand that the door is so graciously opened in front of Jean Valjean, it is Thenardier's tricks.Thenardier felt that Javert was always here, and that anyone under surveillance had a keen sense of smell, and had to throw a bone to the police dog.What an unexpected gain to send a murderer!It's a scapegoat that is never turned down.Thénardier released Jean Valjean in his place, and at the same time gave the police a prey to make him abandon the pursuit, to make himself forgotten in a larger case, and to save Javert from waiting in vain, which always pleased the spy, And he earned another thirty francs.As for himself, he planned to divert his attention and get away.

Jean Valjean crashed from one rock to another. The passing of these two successive encounters from Thenardier to Javert was an embarrassing one. Javert did not recognize Jean Valjean, as we have already said, because Jean Valjean was no longer himself.Without dropping his arm, Javert, with an imperceptible movement, fixed his fist on the sap, and said in a short, calm voice: "who are you?" "it's me." "Who are you?" "Jean Valjean." Javert, who had the stick between his teeth, bent his knees, placed his mighty hands on Jean Valjean's shoulders, clamped him like a pair of vices, and, looking carefully, recognized him.Their faces almost touched, and Javert's gaze was terrifying.

Jean Valjean remained motionless in Javert's grip, as a lion endures the paw of a bobcat. "Scout Javert," he said, "you have caught me. In fact, since this morning I have considered myself your prisoner, and I have not tried to escape from you after giving you the address." Catch me! Just promise me one thing." Javert, who seemed not to hear him, fixed his eyes on Jean Valjean, and pushed his lips to his nose with an expression of ferocious thought, with his raised chin.At last, putting down Jean Valjean, he straightened up suddenly, seized the stick, and, as if in a dream, did not ask, but mumbled:

"What are you doing here? Who is this man?" He never addressed Jean Valjean by the address "thou." When Jean Valjean answered, his voice seemed to have awakened Javert: "I was just about to tell you about him. You can deal with me as you like, but help me send him home first. I only ask you for this." Javert's face wrinkled, in the eyes of others, this was his performance every time he might give in, and he did not refuse. Bending down again, he drew a handkerchief from his pocket, soaked it in the water, and wiped the blood from Marius' forehead.

"This man was from the barricades," he said softly, as if talking to himself, "that is the man they call Marius." The top secret agent, when he thought he was going to die, was watching everything, listening to everything, hearing everything and collecting everything.Before dying he was still scouting, leaning on the first stone steps of the tomb, he was still recording. He took Marius' hand for his pulse. "A wounded man," said Jean Valjean. "A dead man," said Javert. Jean Valjean replied: "No, not dead yet." "Did you bring him here from the barricade?" said Javert.

His mind must have been very heavy, so that he did not pursue this disturbing rescue from the gutter at all, nor did he notice that Jean Valjean was silent in answering his questions. Jean Valjean, too, seemed to have but one thought, and said: "He lives in the Rue de la Passione in the Marsh, at his grandfather's house... I don't remember his grandfather's name." Jean Valjean rummaged through Marius's clothes, drew out his notebook, and handed Javert a page written in pencil by Marius. There was still enough floating light in the air to make out the writing.Besides, Javert's eyes had the catlike phosphorescence of a night bird.He read the lines written by Marius clearly, and muttered: "Ginormand, 6 rue de la Passione."

So he called out: "The coachman!" We also remember that there was a car waiting, just in case. Javert left Marius' notebook. Presently the carriage descended from the drinking-ramp to the beach, Marius was placed on the back bench, and Javert and Jean Valjean sat side by side on the front bench. The doors were closed again, and the carriage galloped on up the river bank in the direction of the Bastille. They left the river bank and went into the main street.The coachman, sitting like a black shadow on his seat, whipped his two emaciated horses.There was an icy silence in the car. Marius, motionless, leaned against the corner of the rear seat, with his head hanging on his chest, his arms hanging, his legs stiff, as if he was just waiting for a coffin.Jean Valjean was like a dead soul, Javert like a stone statue; in the dark car, every time he passed a street lamp, the interior was as gray and pale as if illuminated by intermittent lightning, fate united them, as if to make this Three tragic, motionless corpses, phantoms, stone statues confront each other tragically.