3.V.1.19. JEAN VALJEAN TAKES HIS REVENGE
WHEN Jean Valjean was left alone with Javert, he untied
the rope which fastened the prisoner across the middle of the
body, and the knot of which was under the table. After this
he made him a sign to rise.
Javert obeyed with that indefinable smile in which the
supremacy
of enchained authority is condensed.
Jean Valjean took Javert by the martingale, as one would
take a beast of burden by the breast-band, and, dragging the
latter after him, emerged from the wine-shop slowly, because
Javert, with his impeded limbs, could take only very short
steps.
Jean Valjean had the pistol in his hand.
In this manner they crossed the inner trapezium of the
barricade. The insurgents, all intent on the attack, which
was imminent, had their backs turned to these two.
Marius alone, stationed on one side, at the extreme left
of
the barricade, saw them pass. This group of victim and
executioner
was illuminated by the sepulchral light which he
bore in his own soul.
Jean Valjean with some difficulty, but without relaxing
his
hold for a single instant, made Javert, pinioned as he was,
scale the little entrenchment in the Mondetour lane.
When they had crossed this barrier, they found themselves
alone in the lane. No one saw them. Among the heap they
could distinguish a livid face, streaming hair, a pierced hand
and the half nude breast of a woman. It was Eponine. The
corner of the houses hid them from the insurgents.
The corpses carried away from the barricade formed a terrible
pile a few paces distant.
Javert gazed askance at this body, and, profoundly calm,
said in a low tone:
"It strikes me that I know that girl."
Then he turned to Jean Valjean.
Jean Valjean thrust the pistol under his arm and fixed on
Javert a look which it required no words to interpret: "Javert,
it is I."
Javert replied:
"Take your revenge."
Jean Valjean drew from his pocket a knife, and opened
it.
"A clasp-knife!" exclaimed Javert, "you are right. That
suits you better."
Jean Valjean cut the martingale which Javert had about
his neck, then he cut the cords on his wrists, then, stooping
down, he cut the cord on his feet; and, straightening himself
up, he said to him:
"You are free."
Javert was not easily astonished. Still, master of
himself
though he was, he could not repress a start. He remained
open-mouthed and motionless.
Jean Valjean continued:
"I do not think that I shall escape from this place. But
if,
by chance, I do, I live, under the name of Fauchelevent, in
the Rue de l'Homme Arme, No. 7."
Javert snarled like a tiger, which made him half open one
corner of his mouth, and he muttered between his teeth:
"Have a care."
"Go," said Jean Valjean.
Javert began again:
"Thou saidst Fauchelevent, Rue de l'Homme Arme?"
"Number 7."
Javert repeated in a low voice: — "Number 7."
He buttoned up his coat once more, resumed the military
stiffness between his shoulders, made a half turn, folded his
arms and, supporting his chin on one of his hands, he set out
in the direction of the Halles. Jean Valjean followed him
with his eyes:
A few minutes later, Javert turned round and shouted to
Jean Valjean:
"You annoy me. Kill me, rather."
Javert himself did not notice that he no longer addressed
Jean Valjean as "thou."
"Be off with you," said Jean Valjean.
Javert retreated slowly. A moment later he turned the
corner of the Rue des Precheurs.
When Javert had disappeared, Jean Valjean fired his pistol
in the air.
Then he returned to the barricade and said:
"It is done."
In the meanwhile, this is what had taken place.
Marius, more intent on the outside than on the interior,
had
not, up to that time, taken a good look at the pinioned spy in
the dark background of the tap-room.
When he beheld him in broad daylight, striding over the
barricade in order to proceed to his death, he recognized him.
Something suddenly recurred to his mind. He recalled the
inspector of the Rue de Pontoise, and the two pistols which
the latter had handed to him and which he, Marius, had used
in this very barricade, and not only did he recall his face, but
his name as well.
This recollection was misty and troubled, however, like
all
his ideas.
It was not an affirmation that he made, but a question
which he put to himself:
"Is not that the inspector of police who told me that his
name was Javert?"
Perhaps there was still time to intervene in behalf of
that
man. But, in the first place, he must know whether this was
Javert.
Marius called to Enjolras, who had just stationed himself
at the other extremity of the barricade:
"Enjolras!"
"What?"
"What is the name of yonder man?"
"What man?"
"The police agent. Do you know his name?"
"Of course. He told us."
"What is it?"
"Javert."
Marius sprang to his feet.
At that moment, they heard the report of the pistol.
Jean Valjean re-appeared and cried: "It is done."
A gloomy chill traversed Marius' heart.