Les Miserables (6 page)

“Take your revenge,” said Javert when we stopped walking.

I took a knife out of my pocket.

“A knife to the heart!” exclaimed Javert. “You're right. That's your style.”

I cut the ropes on Javert's wrists.

“You're free to go,” I told him.

Javert was too stunned to speak. He stared at me openmouthed.

“I probably won't leave here alive,” I
said. “But if I do, you can find me at number 7, rue de l'Homme-Armé. I live there under the name of Fauchelevent. Now go!”

After a few steps, Javert turned. “I would rather you killed me,” he said.

“Clear out!” I cried.

When he was gone, I fired the gun into the air.

I went back to the barricade and reported, “The spy is dead.”

But Marius wasn't at his post. He was lying on the pavement. A bullet was in his shoulder. He looked dead. But he was still breathing.

The king's soldiers would soon be on the barricade. I had to get Marius to safety!

In the Paris Sewer

The inn doors were bolted. The men were inside. They would finish the fight from there.

The soldiers were climbing the barricade. I lifted Marius on my back. There was so little time.

But how could we get away? The streets were blocked at every turn. Soldiers were posted on every street. Only a bird could fly from this trap.

I ran down the alley where earlier I
had taken Javert. Years ago I had run from him with Cosette. Now I was running again. That time I had found a way to escape by going up. I couldn't do that this time.

I looked on the ground. If only the earth would open up and swallow us. At any moment a soldier would think to check this alley. We would be caught and killed.

My eyes searched everywhere for a way out. Then I saw it—the iron grate at the edge of the road. It was half hidden by the paving stones.

I laid Marius on the ground. The grate was about two feet square. It was just big enough for me to crawl down and pull Marius through.

Soon Marius and I were underground. I replaced the grate. In seconds we had gone from midday to midnight. The clamor of battle was now a mumble above our heads. We were in the Paris sewer!

The channel was narrow. I could touch
both walls at the same time. The floor was wet under my feet. A foul stench hung in the air.

Slowly my eyes got used to the dark. We were under the heart of the city. There were two passages in front of me. One passage would lead to the country. The other would lead toward the Seine River, and death.

There was light to the left but I chose the right, the darkest part of the sewer. It went uphill and, I hoped, away from the city.

Marius's arms were around my neck. His feet dragged behind. I held both his arms with one hand, using my other hand to follow the wall.

Yesterday's rain lay in the center of the channel. I stayed close to the wall so I wasn't in water. I walked slowly, like a creature of the night.

I walked knowing there were pits in the sewer and we could be swallowed up at any
moment. I walked knowing each step could be my last.

Questions raced through my mind. Would I find a way out in time? Would Marius bleed to death? Would I wander the sewer until I starved to death? I couldn't stop the questions.

Then the ground changed. We were walking downhill now. The stream washed around the heels of my shoes, not just the toes. Perhaps we were heading toward the Seine.

If this were true we would be washed into the river and drowned. The danger was great. But the danger behind us was greater. So I walked on.

Marius's cheek pressed against mine. His breathing was faint.

We finally came to the end of the channel. There was a grate above my head. I put Marius down and looked through his pockets. I found a slip of paper in his wallet.

Marius had written, “My name is Marius Pontmercy. My body is to be taken to the house of my grandfather, Monsieur Gillenormand.” The address followed.

Now I knew where I would take Marius once I removed the grate. I could see the early evening sky through the iron bars.

But this grate was different from the other one. It was bolted. Only a key would open it. We had come to a dead end!

I was exhausted. I didn't have the strength to turn back. And Marius was near death.

Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“We'll go halves,” said a low voice.

I turned. It was Thénardier! He didn't recognize me. I stood in the shadows, and there was blood on my face.

“How are you going to get out?” Thénardier went on. “You have no way of unlocking the grate. But you've got to get away from here.”

“That's true,” I replied.

“So we'll go halves,” he said.

“How do you mean?”

“You've killed a man,” Thénardier pointed at Marius. “I don't know you. But I'm ready to help you. I have the key. Give me half of what you found on this dead man's body. Then I'll unlock the grate for you.”

I couldn't believe it. Escape was in the hands of the wicked Thénardier! My good angel wore an evil disguise.

“I'll give you this rope,” he continued. “You can tie a stone to it and drown the body in the river. So let's settle up. Here's the key. Where's the money?”

I had thirty francs in my waistcoat pocket. It was nothing. I spread the coins on a ledge in the wall.

“You didn't kill for much,” said Thénardier.

Then he searched Marius's pockets. “It's
true,” he said. “There is no more money. I guess you better go out. It's like a fare. You pay when you leave. You've paid. So you can leave.”

He laughed. Then he bent to help me put Marius on my back. He put the key to the bolt. The bolt slid back and the grate opened without a sound.

I walked into the cool night air. Thénardier bolted the grate behind me.

At last I was outside! I laid Marius on the nearby riverbank. The darkness, stench, and horror were behind me.

I was washing my hands and face in the river when I sensed someone standing behind me.

I turned. The tall man behind me wore a long coat. He held a policeman's stick in one hand. In the half-light I saw who it was—Javert!

The Day That Follows Night

Javert didn't recognize me. He gripped his stick and stared.

“Who are you?” he asked calmly.

“Myself,” I replied.

“And who is that?”

“Jean Valjean.”

Javert put the stick between his teeth. He clapped a hand on my shoulder and leaned forward. Our faces nearly touched. He saw it was me.

He had chased Thénardier to the sewers. He had gone after a mouse and caught a lion!

“Inspector Javert,” I said. “You have got me. I am your prisoner. Just grant me one thing. Help me take this man home. He needs a doctor.”

Inspector Javert called for his carriage. His face was hard, like stone.

By the time we reached Marius's grandfather's house, it was late in the evening. Everyone was asleep. The doorkeeper let us in.

“There is still life in him,” I said and laid the wounded young man on the couch.

I joined Javert in the buggy. But there was one more thing I needed to do. I asked him for one more favor.

“Let me go home for a minute. After that you can do what you like with me,” I said.

Javert was silent for a moment. Then he
pulled down the window in front of him and said to the driver, “Drive to number 7, rue de l'Homme-Armé.”

I wanted to tell Cosette that Marius was safe. I wanted to tell her where I kept my money. Then I would go with Javert. It was over for me.

“I'll wait for you here,” said Javert when we had arrived.

I went upstairs to my room. Before calling Cosette, I looked out the window. To my astonishment, Javert was gone.

It was only later that I learned the truth. Javert threw himself into the Seine and drowned.

Maybe he couldn't bear to take me to prison. Maybe his duty to the law made it impossible for him to let me go. But I had spared his life, so he needed to spare mine.

You know the story from here, my dear Cosette. Now you know that the money I
gave you when you married Marius—600,000 francs—was really mine to give.

I wasn't at peace living in your house because of my secret. One day I took Marius aside. I told him I was an ex-convict.

Marius was stunned. “But what does it mean?” he asked.

“It means I was a prisoner for nineteen years,” I said. “I escaped. I belong in prison even now.”

“But you didn't have to tell me,” said Marius. “You could have gone on living with us under the name you were using—Fauchelevent.”

“I once stole a loaf of bread to stay alive,” I replied. “But now I cannot steal a name in order to go on living.

“How would it be if someday we were all out together and the police recognized me and took me away?” I continued. “What would Cosette think? No, it's better this way.”

But I made Marius promise not to tell you. I moved out of his house. He said I could visit every evening, and I did.

But Marius's welcome vanished. Soon I knew he didn't want me to come by. I missed an evening now and then. Finally, I stopped my visits.

I'm sorry I hurt you Cosette. I'm sorry I pulled away from you. I loved you like a father, yet I wasn't your father. I made you stop calling me “Father.” I couldn't bear the lie anymore.

I saw the hurt in your eyes when I asked you to call me “Monsieur Jean.”

Marius thinks I stole the money. Now you can tell him the truth. I was an outcast all my life. I have loved you, Cosette, for as long as I have known you. I did everything I could to make you happy.

Now I am finished. I am ready to die. I will lie down and wait for the end to come. It won't be long. Soon I will wake to a new
day when this dark night is over.

The pen fell from Jean Valjean's fingers. He had given up on life. But he did not rest for long.

Suddenly someone knocked at the door. It was Cosette and Marius. They had come to see him.

Cosette rushed into the room. Marius stood in the doorway.

“Cosette,” said Jean Valjean. He sat upright in his chair. His face was thin and pale. But his eyes were happy. Cosette ran into his arms.

“Father!” she cried.

“So have you forgiven me, my Cosette?” asked Jean Valjean.

Looking at Marius he said, “And you, too, have you forgiven me?”

Cosette's eyes filled with tears. Marius bowed his head.

“Thank you,” said Jean Valjean. “I have
lived a hard life. Now I can die in peace.”

Jean Valjean walked to his bed and lay down. He felt as though the world were slipping away from him.

Marius ran to his bedside.

“Now I know what you did for me,” he said. “Why didn't you tell me? It is I who asks forgiveness of you.”

Marius was on his knees. Cosette was kneeling too.

“You saved my life,” said Marius. “Even more, you gave me Cosette! I can never repay you.”

“You have no need to say all this,” murmured Jean Valjean.

“You will not spend another day in this horrible place,” said Marius. “You are Cosette's father and mine as well. You are part of us.”

“Yes, Father,” said Cosette. “You will come to live with us.”

“Children, I am dying,” whispered Jean
Valjean. “I will not live in this world much longer.”

“You will not die,” said Marius.

“People don't die just like that. You have suffered so much. But now your suffering is over. You must not only live. You must live with us.”

“See, Father,” said Cosette. “Marius says you aren't to die. We will be happy together.”

Jean Valjean smiled.

“Come close to me, both of you,” he said. “I love you dearly. How sweet it is to die like this.”

The old man's eyes closed for the last time. Light from two silver candlesticks fell on his face.

Cosette and Marius kissed Jean Valjean good-bye. But he could not return their kiss.