CHAPTER VI.

  THE FONTIS.

  Jean Valjean found himself in presence of a fontis: this sort ofbreaking-in was frequent at that day in the subsoil of the ChampsÉlysées, which was difficult to manage in hydraulic works, and notpreservative of subterranean constructions, owing to its extremefluidity. This fluidity exceeds even the inconsistency of the sandsof the Quartier St. Georges, which could only be overcome by layingrubble on béton, and of the gas-infected clay strata in the Quartierdes Martyrs, which are so liquid that a passage could be effected underthe gallery only by means of an iron tube. When in 1836 the authoritiesdemolished and rebuilt under the Faubourg St. Honoré the old stonesewer in which Jean Valjean is now engaged, the shifting sand which isthe subsoil of the Champs Élysées as far as the Seine offered such anobstacle that the operation lasted six months, to the great annoyanceof those living on the water-side, especially such as had mansionsand coaches. The works were more than difficult, they were dangerous;but we must allow that it rained for four and a half months, and theSeine overflowed thrice. The fontis which Jean Valjean came across wasoccasioned by the shower of the previous evening. A giving way of thepavement, which was badly supported by the subjacent sand, had produceda deposit of rain-water, and when the filtering had taken place theground broke in, and the roadway, being dislocated, fell into the mud.How far? It was impossible to say, for the darkness was denser therethan anywhere else; it was a slough of mud in a cavern of night. JeanValjean felt the pavement depart from under him as he entered theslough; there was water at top and mud underneath. He must pass it, forit was impossible to turn back; Marius was dying, and Jean Valjean wornout. Where else could he go? Jean Valjean advanced; the slough appearedbut of slight depth at the first few steps, but as he advanced his legssank in. He soon had mud up to the middle of the leg, and water up tothe middle of the knee. He walked along, raising Marius with both armsas high as he could above the surface of the water; the mud now came upto his knees and the water to his waist. He could no longer draw back,and he sank in deeper and deeper. This mud, dense enough for the weightof one man, could not evidently bear two; Marius and Jean Valjean mighthave had a chance of getting out separately; but, for all that, JeanValjean continued to advance, bearing the dying man, who was perhaps acorpse. The water came up to his armpits, and he felt himself drowning;he could scarce move in the depth of mud in which he was standing, forthe density which was the support was also the obstacle. He still keptMarius up, and advanced with an extraordinary expenditure of strength,but he was sinking. He had only his head out of water and his two armssustaining Marius. In the old paintings of the Deluge there is a motherholding her child in the same way. As he still sank he threw back hisface to escape the water and be able to breathe; any one who saw him inthis darkness would have fancied he saw a mask floating on the gloomywaters; he vaguely perceived above him Marius's hanging head and lividface; he made a desperate effort and advanced his foot, which struckagainst something solid,--a resting-place. It was high time.

  He drew himself up, and writhed and rooted himself with a species offury upon this support. It produced on him the effect of the firststep of a staircase reascending to life. This support, met with in themud at the supreme moment, was the beginning of the other side of theroadway, which had fallen in without breaking, and bent under the waterlike a plank in a single piece. A well-constructed pavement forms acurve, and possesses such firmness. This fragment of roadway, partlysubmerged, but solid, was a real incline, and once upon it they weresaved. Jean Valjean ascended it, and attained the other side of theslough. On leaving the water his foot caught against a stone and hefell on his knees. He found that this was just, and remained on themfor some time, with his soul absorbed in words addressed to God.

  He rose, shivering, chilled, polluted, bent beneath the dying man hecarried, all dripping with filth, but with his soul full of a strangebrightness.