CHAPTER IV.

  ATTEMPTS TO ESCAPE.

  In order to understand the following, the reader must form an exactidea of the Droit-mur lane, and in particular of the angle which thevisitor left on his left when he turned out of the Rue Polonceauinto this lane. The lane was almost entirely bordered on the rightby poor-looking houses, on the left by single slim-looking edifices,composed of several _corps de logis_, which gradually rose fromone floor to two as they approached Little Rue Picpus so that thisbuilding, which was very lofty on that side, was very low on the sideof Rue Polonceau, where, at the corner to which we have alluded, itsank so low as to be only a wall. This wall did not run parallel withthe lane, but formed a very deep cant, concealed by its corners fromany observers in Rue Polonceau and Rue Droit-mur. From this cant thewall extended along Rue Polonceau up to a house bearing the No. 49,and in Rue Droit-mur, where it was much shorter, up to the frowningbuilding to which we have referred, whose gable it intersected, thusforming a new re-entering angle in the street. This gable had a gloomyappearance, for only one window was visible, or, to speak morecorrectly, two shutters covered with sheet zinc and always closed.The description of the locality which we are now giving is strictlycorrect, and will doubtless arouse a very precise souvenir in the mindof the old inhabitants of the quarter.

  The cant in the wall was entirely occupied by a thing that resembleda colossal and wretched gateway; it was a vast collection ofperpendicular planks, the top ones wider than those below, and fastenedtogether by long cross-strips of iron. By the side of this gate was aporte-cochère of ordinary dimensions, which had apparently been madein the wall about fifty years previously. A linden-tree displayed itsbranches above the cant, and the wall was covered with ivy on the sideof the Rue Polonceau.

  In Jean Valjean's desperate situation this gloomy building had anuninhabited and solitary look about it which tempted him. He hurriedlyexamined it, and said to himself that if he could only enter it hemight perhaps be saved. In the centre of the frontage of this building,turned to the Rue Droit-mur, there were old leaden drain-pipes atall the windows of the different floors. The various branches whichled to a central pipe formed a species of tree on the façade; theseramifications with their hundred elbows imitated those old vinebranches which cling to the front of old farm-houses. This singularespalier of lead and iron branches was the first thing that caughtJean Valjean's attention. He put Cosette down with her back against apost, bidding her be silent, and hurried to the spot where the mainpipe reached the ground. Perhaps there might be a way to scale it andenter the house; but the pipe was worn out, and scarce held in itscramps. Besides, all the windows of this silent house were defended bythick iron bars, even the garrets. And then the moon shone full on thisfront, and the man watching at the end of the street would see JeanValjean climb up; and then what was he to do with Cosette? How was heto hoist her up a three-storied house? He gave up all idea of climbingby the pipe, and crawled along the wall to re-enter Rue Polonceau. Whenhe reached the cant where he had left Cosette he noticed that no onecould see him there. As we stated, he was safe from all eyes, no matteron what side; moreover, he was in the shadow, and then, lastly, therewere two gates, which might perhaps be forced. The wall over whichhe saw the linden-tree and the ivy evidently belonged to a garden inwhich he could at least conceal himself, though there was no foliageon the trees, and pass the rest of the night. Time was slipping away,and he must set to work at once. He felt the porte-cochère, and atonce perceived that it was fastened up inside and out, and then wentto the other great gate with more hope. It was frightfully decrepit,its very size rendered it less solid, the planks were rotten, and theiron bands, of which there were only three, were rusty. It seemedpossible to break through this affair. On examining this gate, however,he saw that it was not a gate; it had no hinges, lock, or partition inthe centre; the iron bands crossed it from side to side without anysolution of continuity. Through the cracks of the planks he caughta glimpse of coarsely-mortared rag-stone, which passers-by mighthave seen ten years back. He was forced to confess to himself withconsternation that this fancied gate was simply a make-believe; it waseasy to pull down a plank, but he would find himself face to face witha wall.