What did the man want?
Here, he became dismayed, he did not wish to dig down, he did not wish to penetrate deeply; he did not wish to sound himself.
He had promised, he had allowed himself to be drawn into a promise; Jean Valjean held his promise; one must keep one’s word even to a convict, above all to a convict.
Still, his first duty was to Cosette.
In short, he was carried away by the repugnance which dominated him.
Marius turned over all this confusion of ideas in his mind, passing from one to the other, and moved by all of them.
Hence arose a profound trouble.
It was not easy for him to hide this trouble from Cosette, but love is a talent, and Marius succeeded in doing it.
However, without any apparent object, he questioned Cosette, who was as candid as a dove is white and who suspected nothing; he talked of her childhood and her youth, and he became more and more convinced that that convict had been everything good, paternal and respectable that a man can be towards Cosette.
All that Marius had caught a glimpse of and had surmised was real.
That sinister nettle had loved and protected that lily.
BOOK EIGHTH.—FADING AWAY OF THE TWILIGHT
CHAPTER I—THE LOWER CHAMBER
On the following day, at nightfall, Jean Valjean knocked at the carriage gate of the Gillenormand house.
It was Basque who received him.
Basque was in the courtyard at the appointed hour, as though he had received his orders.
It sometimes happens that one says to a servant:
“You will watch for Mr. So and So, when he arrives.”
Basque addressed Jean Valjean without waiting for the latter to approach him:
“Monsieur le Baron has charged me to inquire whether monsieur desires to go upstairs or to remain below?”
“I will remain below,” replied Jean Valjean.
Basque, who was perfectly respectful, opened the door of the waiting-room and said:
“I will go and inform Madame.”
The room which Jean Valjean entered was a damp, vaulted room on the ground floor, which served as a cellar on occasion, which opened on the street, was paved with red squares and was badly lighted by a grated window.
This chamber was not one of those which are harassed by the feather-duster, the pope’s head brush, and the broom.
The dust rested tranquilly there.
Persecution of the spiders was not organized there.
A fine web, which spread far and wide, and was very black and ornamented with dead flies, formed a wheel on one of the window-panes.
The room, which was small and low-ceiled, was furnished with a heap of empty bottles piled up in one corner.
The wall, which was daubed with an ochre yellow wash, was scaling off in large flakes.
At one end there was a chimney-piece painted in black with a narrow shelf.
A fire was burning there; which indicated that Jean Valjean’s reply: “I will remain below,” had been foreseen.
Two armchairs were placed at the two corners of the fireplace.
Between the chairs an old bedside rug, which displayed more foundation thread than wool, had been spread by way of a carpet.
The chamber was lighted by the fire on the hearth and the twilight falling through the window.
Jean Valjean was fatigued.
For days he had neither eaten nor slept.
He threw himself into one of the armchairs.
Basque returned, set a lighted candle on the chimney-piece and retired.
Jean Valjean, his head drooping and his chin resting on his breast, perceived neither Basque nor the candle.
All at once, he drew himself up with a start.
Cosette was standing beside him.
He had not seen her enter, but he had felt that she was there.
He turned round. He gazed at her.
She was adorably lovely.
But what he was contemplating with that profound gaze was not her beauty but her soul.
“Well,” exclaimed Cosette, “father, I knew that you were peculiar, but I never should have expected this.
What an idea!
Marius told me that you wish me to receive you here.”
“Yes, it is my wish.”