CHAPTER V.

  A THING IMPOSSIBLE IN GASLIGHT.

  At this moment a hollow, cadenced sound began to grow audible a shortdistance off, and Jean Valjean ventured to take a peep round the cornerof the street. Seven or eight soldiers were entering the street. Hecould see their bayonets gleaming, and they were coming toward him.These soldiers, at the head of whom he distinguished Javert's tallform, advanced slowly and cautiously, and frequently halted; it wasplain that they were exploring all the corners and all the doors andlanes. It was--and here conjecture could not be wrong--some patrolwhich Javert had met and requested to assist him. Judging from the paceat which they marched, and the halts they made, they would requireabout a quarter of an hour to reach the spot where Jean Valjean was.It was a frightful thought; a few moments separated Jean Valjean fromthe awful precipice which yawned before him for the third time. And thegalleys were now not merely the galleys, but Cosette lost forever; thatis to say, a life resembling the interior of a tomb.

  There was only one thing possible. Jean Valjean had one peculiarity,that he might be said to carry two wallets; in one he had the thoughtsof a saint, in the other the formidable talents of a convict, and hefelt in one or the other as opportunity offered. Among other resources,owing to his numerous escapes from the Toulon galleys, he had become aperfect master in the incredible art of raising himself without ladderor cramping irons, and by his mere muscular strength, and holdingon by his shoulders and knees, in the right angle of a wall, to thesixth floor if necessary,--an art which rendered so terrible and socelebrated that corner of the yard in the Paris Conciergerie by whichthe condemned convict Battemolle escaped twenty years ago. Jean Valjeanmeasured the height of the wall above which he saw the linden-tree,and found that it was about eighteen feet. The lower part of the anglewhich it made with the gable end of the large building was filled upwith a triangular mass of masonry, very common in Parisian corners.This mass was about five feet high, and the space to be cleared fromthe top of it was not more than fourteen; but the difficulty wasCosette, for she could not climb a wall. Abandon her? Jean Valjean didnot think of it, but carrying her was impossible; a man requires hiswhole strength to carry out such an ascent, and the slightest burdenwould displace his centre of gravity and hurl him down. He required arope, but he had none. Where was he to find a rope at midnight in theRue Polonceau? Assuredly at this moment if Jean Valjean had possessed akingdom he would have given it for a rope. All extreme situations havetheir flashes, which at one moment blind, at another illumine us. JeanValjean's desperate glance fell on the lamp-post in the blind alley.In those days there were no gaslights in the streets of Paris; atnightfall lamps were lit at regular distances, which were pulled up anddown by a rope that crossed the street and fitted into a groove in apost. The end of the rope was kept in an iron box under the lantern, ofwhich the lamp-lighter had the key, and the rope itself was protectedby a metal case. Jean Valjean leaped across the street, burnt the lockof the box with the point of his knife, and a moment later was againby Cosette's side holding a rope. Such gloomy finders of expedientswhen struggling with fatality set rapidly to work. We have mentionedthat the lamps were not lit on this night; the one in the blind alleytherefore was naturally extinguished, and any one might have passedclose without noticing that it was no longer in its place.

  The hour, the place, the darkness, Jean Valjean's preoccupation, hissingular gestures, his coming and going, were all beginning to alarmCosette. Any other child would have begun crying kindly long before;but she confined herself to pulling the skirt of his coat. The noise ofthe approaching patrol constantly became more distinct.

  "Father," she whispered, "I am frightened; who is coming?"

  "Silence," the unhappy man replied; "it is Madame Thénardier."

  The child trembled, and he added,--

  "Do not say a word, but leave me to act: if you cry out or sob shewill catch you and take you back again."

  Then, without hurry, but without doing anything twice over, with a firmand sharp precision, which was the more remarkable at such a moment,when the patrol and Javert might be instantly expected, he undid hiscravat, fastened it under Cosette's armpits, while careful not to hurther, fastened the rope to the cravat, took the other end in his teeth,took off his shoes and stockings, which he threw over the wall, andbegan raising himself in the corner of the wall with as much certaintyas if he had cramping irons under his heels and elbows. Half a minutehad not elapsed ere he was astride the coping. Cosette looked at himin stupor, without saying a word; for Jean Valjean's mention of thelandlady's name had frozen her. All at once she heard Jean Valjean sayto her in a very low voice,--

  "Lean against the wall."

  She obeyed.

  "You must not say a word, or feel frightened," he continued.

  And she felt herself lifted from the ground, but before she had timeto look round she found herself on the top of the wall. Jean Valjeanplaced her on his back, took her two little hands in his left hand, andcrawled along the wall till he reached the cant. As he had suspected,there was a building here, whose roof began at the top of the bastardgate and descended in a gentle slope nearly to the ground, grazing thelinden-tree. This was a fortunate circumstance, for the wall was muchhigher on this side than on that of the street, and Jean Valjean couldscarce see the ground, so far was it beneath him. He had just reachedthe sloping roof, and had not yet loosed his hold of the coping, whena violent uproar announced the arrival of the patrol, and he heardJavert's thundering voice,--

  "Search the blind alley; all the streets are guarded, and I will wagerthat he is in it."

  The soldiers rushed forward into the alley Genrot. Jean Valjean slippeddown the roof, still supporting Cosette, reached the linden-tree, andleaped on the ground. Either through terror or courage the child hadnot said a word; her hands were only slightly grazed.