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JEAN VALJEAN
That same day, towards four o'clock in the afternoon, Jean
Valjean was sitting alone on the back side of one of the most
solitary slopes in the Champ-de-Mars. Either from prudence, or
from a desire to meditate, or simply in consequence of one of
those insensible changes of habit which gradually introduce themselves
into the existence of every one, he now rarely went out with Cosette.
He had on his workman's waistcoat, and trousers of gray linen;
and his long-visored cap concealed his countenance.
He was calm and happy now beside Cosette; that which had,
for a time, alarmed and troubled him had been dissipated; but
for the last week or two, anxieties of another nature had come
up.
One day, while walking on the boulevard, he had caught sight
of Thenardier; thanks to his disguise, Thenardier had not recognized
him; but since that day, Jean Valjean had seen him repeatedly,
and he was now certain that Thenardier was prowling about in their
neighborhood.
This had been sufficient to make him come to a decision.
Moreover, Paris was not tranquil:
political troubles presented this inconvenient feature, for
any one who had anything to conceal in his life, that the police
had grown very uneasy and very suspicious, and that while seeking
to ferret out a man like Pepin or Morey, they might very readily
discover a man like Jean Valjean.
Jean Valjean had made up his mind to quit Paris, and even
France, and go over to England.
He had warned Cosette.
He wished to set out before the end of the week.
He had seated himself on the slope in the Champ-de-Mars, turning
over all sorts of thoughts in his mind,--Thenardier, the police,
the journey, and the difficulty of procuring a passport.
He was troubled from all these points of view.
Last of all, an inexplicable circumstance which had just attracted
his attention, and from which he had not yet recovered, had added
to his state of alarm.
On the morning of that very day, when he alone of the household
was stirring, while strolling in the garden before Cosette's shutters
were open, he had suddenly perceived on the wall, the following
line, engraved, probably with a nail:--
16 Rue de la Verrerie.
This was perfectly fresh, the grooves in the ancient black
mortar were white, a tuft of nettles at the foot of the wall was
powdered with the fine, fresh plaster.
This had probably been written on the preceding night.
What was this?
A signal for others?
A warning for himself?
In any case, it was evident that the garden had been violated,
and that strangers had made their way into it.
He recalled the odd incidents which had already alarmed the
household.
His mind was now filling in this canvas.
He took good care not to speak to Cosette of the line written
on the wall, for fear of alarming her.
In the midst of his preoccupations, he perceived, from a shadow
cast by the sun, that some one had halted on the crest of the
slope immediately behind him.
He was on the point of turning round, when a paper folded
in four fell upon his knees as though a hand had dropped it over
his head.
He took the paper, unfolded it, and read these words written
in large characters, with a pencil:--
"MOVE AWAY FROM YOUR HOUSE."
Jean Valjean sprang hastily to his feet; there was no one
on the slope; he gazed all around him and perceived a creature
larger than a child, not so large as a man, clad in a gray blouse
and trousers of dust-colored cotton velvet, who was jumping over
the parapet and who slipped into the moat of the Champde-Mars.
Jean Valjean returned home at once, in a very thoughtful mood.
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