3.V.3.8. THE TORN COAT-TAIL
IN the midst of this prostration, a hand was laid on his
shoulder, and a low voice said to him:
"Half shares."
Some person in that gloom? Nothing so closely resembles
a dream as despair. Jean Valjean thought that he was dreaming.
He had heard no footsteps. Was it possible? He raised
his eyes.
A man stood before him.
This man was clad in a blouse; his feet were bare; he held
his shoes in his left hand; he had evidently removed them in
order to reach Jean Valjean, without allowing his steps to be
heard.
Jean Valjean did not hesitate for an instant. Unexpected
as was this encounter, this man was known to him. The man
was Thenardier.
Although awakened, so to speak, with a start, Jean
Valjean,
accustomed to alarms, and steeled to unforeseen shocks that
must be promptly parried, instantly regained possession of his
presence of mind. Moreover, the situation could not be made
worse, a certain degree of distress is no longer capable of a
crescendo, and Thenardier himself could add nothing to this
blackness of this night.
A momentary pause ensued.
Thenardier, raising his right hand to a level with his
forehead,
formed with it a shade, then he brought his eyelashes
together, by screwing up his eyes, a motion which, in connection
with a slight contraction of the mouth, characterizes the
sagacious attention of a man who is endeavoring to recognize
another man. He did not succeed. Jean Valjean, as we
have just stated, had his back turned to the light, and he was,
moreover, so disfigured, so bemired, so bleeding that he would
have been unrecognizable in full noonday. On the contrary,
illuminated by the light from the grating, a cellar light, it is
true, livid, yet precise in its lividness, Thenardier, as the
energetic
popular metaphor expresses it, immediately "leaped into"
Jean Valjean's eyes. This inequality of conditions sufficed to
assure some advantage to Jean Valjean in that mysterious
duel which was on the point of beginning between the
two situations and the two men. The encounter took
place between Jean Valjean veiled and Thenardier unmasked.
Jean Valjean immediately perceived that Thenardier did
not recognize him.
They surveyed each other for a moment in that half-gloom,
as though taking each other's measure. Thenardier was the
first to break the silence.
"How are you going to manage to get out?"
Jean Valjean made no reply. Thenardier continued:
"It's impossible to pick the lock of that gate. But still
you must get out of this."
"That is true," said Jean Valjean.
"Well, half shares then."
"What do you mean by that?"
"You have killed that man; that's all right. I have the
key."
Thenardier pointed to Marius. He went on:
"I don't know you, but I want to help you. You must be
a friend."
Jean Valjean began to comprehend. Thenardier took him
for an assassin.
Thenardier resumed:
"Listen, comrade. You didn't kill that man without
looking
to see what he had in his pockets. Give me my half. I'll
open the door for you."
And half drawing from beneath his tattered blouse a huge
key, he added:
"Do you want to see how a key to liberty is made? Look
here."
Jean Valjean "remained stupid" — the expression belongs
to the elder Corneille — to such a degree that he doubted
whether what he beheld was real. It was providence appearing
in horrible guise, and his good angel springing from the
earth in the form of Thenardier.
Thenardier thrust his fist into a large pocket concealed
under his blouse, drew out a rope and offered it to Jean
Valjean.
"Hold on," said he, "I'll give you the rope to boot."
"What is the rope for?"
"You will need a stone also, but you can find one outside.
There's a heap of rubbish."
"What am I to do with a stone?"
"Idiot, you'll want to sling that stiff into the river,
you'll
need a stone and a rope, otherwise it would float on the
water."
Jean Valjean took the rope. There is no one who does not
occasionally accept in this mechanical way.
Thenardier snapped his fingers as though an idea had
suddenly
occurred to him.
"Ah, see here, comrade, how did you contrive to get out of
that slough yonder? I haven't dared to risk myself in it.
Phew! you don't smell good."
After a pause he added:
"I'm asking you questions, but you're perfectly right not
to
answer. It's an apprenticeship against that cursed quarter of
an hour before the examining magistrate. And then, when
you don't talk at all, you run no risk of talking too loud.
That's no matter, as I can't see your face and as I don't know
your name, you are wrong in supposing that I don't know
who you are and what you want. I twig. You've broken up
that gentleman a bit; now you want to tuck him away somewhere.
The river, that great hider of folly, is what you want.
I'll get you out of your scrape. Helping a good fellow in a
pinch is what suits me to a hair."
While expressing his approval of Jean Valjean's silence,
he
endeavored to force him to talk. He jostled his shoulder in
an attempt to catch a sight of his profile, and he exclaimed,
without, however, raising his tone:
"Apropos of that quagmire, you're a hearty animal. Why
didn't you toss the man in there?"
Jean Valjean preserved silence.
Thenardier resumed, pushing the rag which served him as a
cravat to the level of his Adam's apple, a gesture which
completes
the capable air of a serious man:
"After all, you acted wisely. The workmen, when they
come to-morrow to stop up that hole, would certainly have
found the stiff abandoned there, and it might have been possible,
thread by thread, straw by straw, to pick up the scent
and reach you. Some one has passed through the sewer.
Who? Where did he get out? Was he seen to come out?
The police are full of cleverness. The sewer is treacherous
and tells tales of you. Such a find is a rarity, it attracts
attention, very few people make use of the sewers for their
affairs, while the river belongs to everybody. The river is
the true grave. At the end of a month they fish up your man
in the nets at Saint-Cloud. Well, what does one care for
that? It's carrion! Who killed that man? Paris. And
justice makes no inquiries. You have done well."
The more loquacious Thenardier became, the more mute
was Jean Valjean.
Again Thenardier shook him by the shoulder.
"Now let's settle this business. Let's go shares. You
have
seen my key, show me your money."
Thenardier was haggard, fierce, suspicious, rather
menacing,
yet amicable.
There was one singular circumstance; Thenardier's manners
were not simple; he had not the air of being wholly at his
ease; while affecting an air of mystery, he spoke low; from
time to time he laid his finger on his mouth, and muttered,
"hush!" It was difficult to divine why. There was no one
there except themselves. Jean Valjean thought that other
ruffians might possibly be concealed in some nook, not very
far off, and that Thenardier did not care to share with them.
Thenardier resumed:
"Let's settle up. How much did the stiff have in his
bags?"
Jean Valjean searched his pockets.
It was his habit, as the reader will remember, to always
have some money about him. The mournful life of expedients
to which he had been condemned imposed this as a law
upon him. On this occasion, however, he had been caught
unprepared. When donning his uniform of a National Guardsman
on the preceding evening, he had forgotten, dolefully
absorbed as he was, to take his pocket-book. He had only
some small change in his fob. He turned out his pocket, all
soaked with ooze, and spread out on the banquette of the
vault one louis d'or, two five-franc pieces, and five or six
large sous.
Thenardier thrust out his lower lip with a significant
twist
of the neck.
"You knocked him over cheap," said he.
He set to feeling the pockets of Jean Valjean and Marius,
with the greatest familiarity. Jean Valjean, who was chiefly
concerned in keeping his back to the light, let him have
his way.
While handling Marius' coat, Thenardier, with the skill
of a pickpocket, and without being noticed by Jean Valjean,
tore off a strip which he concealed under his blouse, probably
thinking that this morsel of stuff might serve, later on, to
identify the assassinated man and the assassin. However, he
found no more than the thirty francs.
"That's true," said he, "both of you together have no more
than that."
And, forgetting his motto: "half shares," he took all.
He hesitated a little over the large sous. After due
reflection,
he took them also, muttering:
"Never mind! You cut folks' throats too cheap altogether."
That done, he once more drew the big key from under his
blouse.
"Now, my friend, you must leave. It's like the fair here,
you pay when you go out. You have paid, now clear out."
And he began to laugh.
Had he, in lending to this stranger the aid of his key,
and
in making some other man than himself emerge from that
portal, the pure and disinterested intention of rescuing an
assassin? We may be permitted to doubt this.
Thenardier helped Jean Valjean to replace Marius on his
shoulders, then he betook himself to the grating on tiptoe, and
barefooted, making Jean Valjean a sign to follow him, looked
out, laid his finger on his mouth, and remained for several
seconds, as though in suspense; his inspection finished, he
placed the key in the lock. The bolt slipped back and the
gate swung open. It neither grated nor squeaked. It moved
very softly.
It was obvious that this gate and those hinges, carefully
oiled, were in the habit of opening more frequently than was
supposed. This softness was suspicious; it hinted at furtive
goings and comings, silent entrances and exits of nocturnal
men, and the wolf-like tread of crime.
The sewer was evidently an accomplice of some mysterious
band. This taciturn grating was a receiver of stolen goods.
Thenardier opened the gate a little way, allowing just
sufficient
space for Jean Valjean to pass out, closed the grating
again, gave the key a double turn in the lock and plunged
back into the darkness, without making any more noise than
a breath. He seemed to walk with the velvet paws of a tiger.
A moment later, that hideous providence had retreated into
the invisibility.
Jean Valjean found himself in the open air.