CHAPTER IV.
HE TOO BEARS HIS CROSS.
Jean Valjean had resumed his march, and had not stopped again. Thismarch grew more and more laborious, for the level of these passagesvaries; the average height is about five feet six inches, and wascalculated for a man's stature. Jean Valjean was compelled to stoopso as not to dash Marius against the roof, and was forced at eachmoment to bend down, then draw himself up and incessantly feel thewall. The dampness of the stones and of the flooring rendered thembad supports, either for the hand or the foot, and he tottered in thehideous dungheap of the city. The intermittent flashes of the streetgratings only appeared at lengthened intervals, and were so faintthat the bright sunshine seemed to be moonlight; all the rest wasfog, miasma, opaqueness, and blackness. Jean Valjean was hungry andthirsty, the latter most, and it was like the sea; there was "water,water everywhere, but not a drop to drink." His strength, which, as weknow, was prodigious, and but slightly diminished by age, owing to hischaste and sober life, was, however, beginning to give way; fatigueassailed him, and his decreasing strength increased the weight of hisburden. Marius, who was perhaps dead, was heavy, like all inert bodies;but Jean Valjean held him so that his chest was not affected, and hecould breathe as easily as possible. He felt between his legs the rapidgliding of rats, and one was so startled as to bite him. From time totime a gush of fresh air came through the gratings, which revived him.
It might be about 3 P.M. when he reached the engirdling sewer, andhe was at first amazed by the sudden widening. He unexpectedly foundhimself in a gallery whose two walk his outstretched arms did notreach, and under an arch which his head did not touch. The Great Sewer,in fact, is eight feet in width by seven high. At the point wherethe Montmartre drain joins the Great Sewer two other subterraneangalleries, that of the Rue de Provence and that of the Abattoir, formcross-roads. Between these four ways a less sagacious man would havebeen undecided; but Jean Valjean selected the widest, that is to say,the engirdling sewer. But here the question came back again, "Shouldhe ascend or descend?" He thought that the situation was pressing,and that he must at all risks now reach the Seine, in other words,descend, so he turned to the left. It was fortunate that he did so,for it would be an error to suppose that the engirdling sewer has twoissues, one toward Bercy, the other toward Passy, and that it is, asits name indicates, the subterranean belt of Paris on the right bank.The Great Sewer, which is nought else, it must be borne in mind, thanthe old Menilmontant stream, leads, if you ascend it, to a blind alley,that is to say, to its old starting-point, a spring at the footof the Menilmontant mound. It has no direct communication with thebranch which collects the waters of Paris after leaving the Popincourtquarter, and which falls into the Seine by the Amelot sewer above theold isle of Louviers. This branch, which completes the collectingsewer, is separated from it under the Rue Menilmontant by masonry-work,which marks the point of the division of the waters into up-stream anddown-stream. If Jean Valjean had remounted the gallery he would havearrived, exhausted by fatigue and dying, at a wall; he would have beenlost.
Strictly speaking, by going back a little way, entering the passageof the Filles du Calvaire, on condition that he did not hesitate atthe subterranean point of junction of the Boucherat cross-roads, bytaking the St. Louis passage, then on the left the St. Gilles trench,then by turning to the right and avoiding the St. Sebastian gallery,Jean Valjean might have reached the Amelot sewer; and then if he didnot lose his way in the species of F which is under the Bastille,he would have reached the outlet on the Seine near the Arsenal. Butfor that he must have thoroughly known, in all its ramifications andpiercings, the enormous madrepore of the sewer. Now, we dwell on thefact that he knew nothing of this frightful labyrinth in which he wasmarching, and had he been asked where he was he would have replied,"In night." His instinct served him well; going down, in fact, wasthe only salvation possible. He left on his right the two passageswhich ramify in the shape of a claw under the Rues Laffitte and St.Georges, and the long bifurcate corridor of the Chaussée d'Antin. Alittle beyond an affluent, which was likely the Madeleine branch, hestopped, for he was very weary. A large grating, probably the one inthe Rue d'Anjou, produced an almost bright light. Jean Valjean, withthe gentle movements which a brother would bestow on a wounded brother,laid Marius on the banquette of the sewer, and his white face gleamedunder the white light of the air-hole as from the bottom of a tomb. Hiseyes were closed, his hair stuck to his forehead like paint-brushes onwhich the red paint had dried, his hands were hanging and dead, hislimbs cold, and blood was clotted at the corner of his lips. Coagulatedblood had collected in his cravat knot, his shirt entered the wounds,and the cloth of his coat rubbed the gaping edges of the quiveringflesh. Jean Valjean, removing the clothes with the tips of his fingers,laid his hand on his chest; the heart still beat. Jean Valjean tore uphis shirt, bandaged the wounds as well as he could, and stopped theblood that was flowing; then, stooping down in this half daylight overMarius, who was still unconscious and almost breathless, he looked athim with indescribable hatred.
In moving Marius's clothes he had found in his pockets two things,--theloaf, which he had forgotten the previous evening, and his pocket-book.He ate the bread and opened the pocket-book. On the first page he readthe lines written by Marius, as will be remembered,--
"My name is Marius Pontmercy. Carry my body to my grandfather, M.Gillenormand, No. 6, Rue des Filles du Calvaire, in the Marais."
Jean Valjean read by the light of the grating these lines, and remainedfor a time as it were absorbed in himself, and repeating in a lowvoice, M. Gillenormand, No. 6, Rue des Filles du Calvaire. He returnedthe portfolio to Marius's pocket; he had eaten, and his strength hadcome back to him. He raised Marius again, carefully laid his head onhis right shoulder, and began descending the sewer. The Great Sewer,running along the roadway of the valley of Menilmontant, is nearlytwo leagues in length, and is paved for a considerable portion of thedistance. This torch of names of Paris streets, with which we enlightenfor the reader Jean Valjean's subterranean march, he did not possess.Nothing informed him what zone of the city he was traversing, norwhat distance he had gone; still, the growing paleness of the flakesof light which he met from time to time indicated to him that the sunwas retiring from the pavement, and that day would be soon ended, andthe rolling of vehicles over his head, which had become intermittentinstead of continuous, and then almost ceased, proved to him that hewas no longer under central Paris, and was approaching some solitaryregion, near the external boulevards or most distant quays, where thereare fewer houses and streets, and the drain has fewer gratings. Theobscurity thickened around Jean Valjean; still he continued to advance,groping his way in the shadow.
This shadow suddenly became terrible.