CHAPTER XI.
A SHAKING IN THE ABSOLUTE.
They did not speak during the entire ride. What did Jean Valjean want?To finish what he had begun; to warn Cosette, tell her where Mariuswas, give her perhaps some other useful information, and make, if hecould, certain final arrangements. For his own part, as regarded whatconcerned him personally, it was all over; he had been arrested byJavert, and did not resist. Any other than he, in such a situation,would perhaps have thought vaguely of the rope which Thénardier hadgiven him, and the bars of the first cell he entered; but since hismeeting with the Bishop, Jean Valjean had within him a profoundreligious hesitation against every assault, even on himself. Suicide,that mysterious attack on the unknown, which may contain to a certainextent the death of the soul, was impossible to Jean Valjean.
On entering the Rue de l'Homme Armé the coach stopped, as the streetwas too narrow for vehicles to pass along it. Jean Valjean and Javertgot out. The driver humbly represented to "Mr. Inspector" that theUtrecht velvet of his coach was quite spoiled by the blood of theassassinated man and the filth of the assassin,--that is how heunderstood the affair,--and he added that an indemnity was due to him.At the same time taking his license-book from his pocket, he beggedMr. Inspector to have the kindness to write him a little bit of acertificate. Javert thrust back the book which the driver offered himand said,--
"How much do you want, including the time you waited and the journey?"
"It's seven hours and a quarter," the driver answered, "and my velvetwas brand new. Eighty francs, Mr. Inspector."
Javert took from his pocket four Napoleons, and dismissed the hackneycoach. Jean Valjean thought that it was Javert's intention to take himon foot to the Blancs Manteaux post, or that of the Archives, whichwere close by. They entered the street, which was as usual deserted.Javert followed Jean Valjean, and, on reaching No. 7, the latterrapped, and the gate opened.
"Very good," said Javert; "go up."
He added, with a strange expression, and as if making an effort tospeak in this way,--
"I will wait for you here."
Jean Valjean looked at Javert, for this style of conduct was not atall a habit of Javert's. Still, it could not surprise him greatly thatJavert should now place in him a sort of haughty confidence,--theconfidence of the cat which grants the mouse liberty to the length ofits claw, determined as Jean Valjean was to give himself up and makean end of it. He thrust open the gate, entered the house, shouted tothe porter, who was lying down and had pulled the string from his bed,"It is I," and mounted the staircase. On reaching the first story hepaused, for every Via Dolorosa has its stations. The window at thehead of the stairs, a sash-window, was open. As is the case in manyold houses, the staircase obtained light from, and looked out on, thestreet. The street lantern, situated precisely opposite, threw somelittle light on the stairs, which caused a saving of a lamp. JeanValjean, either to breathe or mechanically, thrust his head out ofthis window and looked down into the street. It is short, and the lamplit it from one end to the other. Jean Valjean had a bedazzlement ofstupor: there was no one in it.
Javert had gone away.