1.C.5.2. IT IS LUCKY THAT THE PONT D'AUSTERLITZ BEARS CARRIAGES
UNCERTAINTY was at an end for Jean Valjean: fortunately
it still lasted for the men. He took advantage of their hesitation.
It was time lost for them, but gained for him. He
slipped from under the gate where he had concealed himself,
and went down the Rue des Postes, towards the region of the
Jardin des Plantes. Cosette was beginning to be tired. He
took her in his arms and carried her. There were no passers-by,
and the street lanterns had not been lighted on account
of there being a moon.
He redoubled his pace.
In a few strides he had reached the Goblet potteries, on the
front of which the moonlight rendered distinctly legible the
ancient inscription:—
De Goblet fils c'est ici la fabrique;
Venez choisir des cruches et des broos,
Des pots a fleurs, des tuyaux, de la brique.
A tout venant le Coeur vend des Carreaux.
He left behind him the Rue de la Clef, then the Fountain
Saint-Victor, skirted the Jardin des Plantes by the lower
streets, and reached the quay. There he turned round. The
quay was deserted. The streets were deserted. There was no
one behind him. He drew a long breath.
He gained the Pont d'Austerlitz.
Tolls were still collected there at that epoch.
He presented himself at the toll office and handed over a
sou.
"It is two sous," said the old soldier in charge of the bridge.
"You are carrying a child who can walk. Pay for two."
He paid, vexed that his passage should have aroused remark.
Every flight should be an imperceptible slipping away.
A heavy cart was crossing the Seine at the same time as
himself, and on its way, like him, to the right bank. This
was of use to him. He could traverse the bridge in the shadow
of the cart.
Towards the middle of the Bridge, Cosette, whose feet were
benumbed, wanted to walk. He set her on the ground and
took her hand again.
The bridge once crossed, he perceived some timber-yards on
his right. He directed his course thither. In order to reach
them, it was necessary to risk himself in a tolerably large
unsheltered and illuminated space. He did not hesitate.
Those who were on his track had evidently lost the scent, and
Jean Valjean believed himself to be out of danger. Hunted,
yes; followed, no.
A little street, the Rue du Chemin-Vert-Saint-Antoine,
opened out between two timber-yards enclosed in walls. This
street was dark and narrow and seemed made expressly for
him. Before entering it he cast a glance behind him,
From the point where he stood he could see the whole
extent of the Pont d'Austerlitz.
Four shadows were just entering on the bridge.
These shadows had their backs turned to the Jardin des
Plantes and were on their way to the right bank.
These four shadows were the four men.
Jean Valjean shuddered like the wild beast which is
recaptured.
One hope remained to him; it was, that the men had not,
perhaps, stepped on the bridge, and had not caught sight of
him while he was crossing the large illuminated space, holding
Cosette by the hand.
In that case, by plunging into the little street before him,
he might escape, if he could reach the timber-yards, the
marshes, the market-gardens, the uninhabited ground which
was not built upon.
It seemed to him that he might commit himself to that
silent little street. He entered it.