CHAPTER VI.

  BETWEEN FOUR PLANKS.

  Who was in the coffin? It was, as we know, Jean Valjean, who had socontrived as to be able to live in it, and could almost breathe. It isa strange thing to what an extent security of conscience produces othersecurity; the whole combination premeditated by Valjean had been goingon since the previous evening, and was still going on excellently.He calculated, like Fauchelevent, upon Father Mestienne, and did notsuspect the end. Never was a situation more critical or a calamity moreperfect.

  The four planks of a coffin exhale a species of terrible peace; andit seemed as if some of the repose of the dead were blended withValjean's tranquillity. From the bottom of this coffin he had beenable to follow and did follow all the phases of the formidable dramawhich he performed with death. A short while after Fauchelevent hadfinished nailing down the coffin lid, Valjean felt himself raised andthen carried along. Through the cessation of the jolting he felt thatthey had passed from the pavement to the stamped earth, that is to say,the hearse had left the streets and had turned into the boulevards.From the hollow sound he guessed that he was crossing the bridge ofAusterlitz; at the first halt, he understood that he was entering thecemetery, and at the sound he said to himself, "Here is the grave."

  He suddenly felt hands seize the coffin, and then noticed a rumblinggrating on the planks; he guessed that a rope was being fastened roundthe coffin in order to let it down into the grave. After this, he feltdizzy for a while; in all probability the men had made the coffinoscillate and let the head down before the feet. He perfectly recoveredwhen he found himself horizontal and motionless. He felt a certainamount of cold, as a chill and solemn voice was raised above him, andhe heard the Latin words which he did not understand pass away soslowly that he could distinguish each in turn.

  "Qui dormiunt in terræ pulvere, evigilabunt; alii in vitam æternam, etalii in opprobrium, ut videant semper."

  A boyish voice said, "De profundis."

  The grave voice began again, "Requiem æternam dona ei, Domine!"

  The boyish voice replied, "Et lux perpetua luceat ei!"

  He heard something like the gentle plash of rain upon the coffin lid;it was probably the holy water. He thought: "It is finished, and I onlyneed a little patience. The priest will go away, and Fauchelevent takeMestienne off to drink. I shall be left here till Fauchelevent returnsalone, and I shall get out. It will take about an hour."

  The grave voice continued, "Requiescat in pace!"

  And the boyish voice said, "Amen."

  Jean Valjean, who was listening attentively, heard something like thesound of retreating footsteps.

  "They are going away," he thought. "I am alone." All at once he heardover his head a noise which appeared to him like a thunder-clap; it wasa spadeful of earth falling on the coffin; a second spadeful fell, andone of the holes by which he breathed was stopped; a third spadefulfell, and then a fourth. There are some things stronger than thestrongest man, and Jean Valjean lost his senses.