Certainly； if Jean Valjean had had a kingdom； he would have given it for a rope at that moment。
All extreme situations have their lightning flashes which sometimes dazzle； sometimes illuminate us。
Jean Valjean's despairing glance fell on the street lantern…post of the blind alley Genrot。
At that epoch there were no gas…jets in the streets of Paris。 At nightfall lanterns placed at regular distances were lighted； they were ascended and descended by means of a rope； which traversed the street from side to side； and was adjusted in a groove of the post。 The pulley over which this rope ran was fastened underneath the lantern in a little iron box； the key to which was kept by the lamp…lighter； and the rope itself was protected by a metal case。
Jean Valjean； with the energy of a supreme struggle； crossed the street at one bound； entered the blind alley； broke the latch of the little box with the point of his knife； and an instant later he was beside Cosette once more。
He had a rope。
These gloomy inventors of expedients work rapidly when they are fighting against fatality。
We have already explained that the lanterns had not been lighted that night。
The lantern in the Cul…de…Sac Genrot was thus naturally extinct； like the rest； and one could pass directly under it without even noticing that it was no longer in its place。
Nevertheless； the hour； the place； the darkness； Jean Valjean's absorption； his singular gestures； his goings and ings； all had begun to render Cosette uneasy。
Any other child than she would have given vent to loud shrieks long before。
She contented herself with plucking Jean Valjean by the skirt of his coat。
They could hear the sound of the patrol's approach ever more and more distinctly。
〃Father；〃 said she； in a very low voice； 〃I am afraid。
Who is ing yonder？〃
〃Hush！〃 replied the unhappy man； 〃it is Madame Thenardier。〃
Cosette shuddered。
He added：
〃Say nothing。
Don't interfere with me。
If you cry out； if you weep； the Thenardier is lying in wait for you。
She is ing to take you back。〃
Then； without haste； but without making a useless movement； with firm and curt precision； the more remarkable at a moment when the patrol and Javert might e upon him at any moment； he undid his cravat； passed it round Cosette's body under the armpits； taking care that it should not hurt the child； fastened this cravat to one end of the rope； by means of that knot which seafaring men call a 〃swallow knot；〃 took the other end of the rope in his teeth； pulled off his shoes and stockings； which he threw over the wall； stepped upon the mass of masonry； and began to raise himself in the angle of the wall and the gable with as much solidity and certainty as though he had the rounds of a ladder under his feet and elbows。 Half a minute had not elapsed when he was resting on his knees on the wall。
Cosette gazed at him in stupid amazement； without uttering a word。 Jean Valjean's injunction； and the name of Madame Thenardier； had chilled her blood。
All at once she heard Jean Valjean's voice crying to her； though in a very low tone：
〃Put your back against the wall。〃
She obeyed。
〃Don't say a word； and don't be alarmed；〃 went on Jean Valjean。
And she felt herself lifted from the ground。
Before she had time to recover herself； she was on the top of the wall。
Jean Valjean grasped her； put her on his back； took her two tiny hands in his large left hand； lay down flat on his stomach and crawled along on top of the wall as far as the cant。
As he had guessed； there stood a building whose roof started from the top of the wooden barricade and descended to within a very short distance of the ground； with a gentle slope which grazed the linden…tree。 A lucky circumstance；
for the wall was much higher on this side than on the street side。 Jean Valjean could only see the ground at a great depth below him。
He had just reached the slope of the roof； and had not yet left the crest of the wall； when a violent uproar announced the arrival of the patrol。
The thundering voice of Javert was audible：
〃Search the blind alley！
The Rue Droit…Mur is guarded！ so is the Rue Petit…Picpus。 I'll answer for it that he is in the blind alley。〃
The soldiers rushed into the Genrot alley。
Jean Valjean allowed himself to slide down the roof； still holding fast to Cosette； reached the linden…tree； and leaped to the ground。 Whether from terror or courage； Cosette had not breathed a sound； though her hands were a little abraded。
BOOK FIFTH。FOR A BLACK HUNT； A MUTE PACK
CHAPTER VI
THE BEGINNING OF AN ENIGMA
Jean Valjean found himself in a sort of garden which was very vast and of singular aspect； one of those melancholy gardens which seem made to be looked at in winter and at night。
This garden was oblong in shape； with an alley of large poplars at the further end； tolerably tall forest trees in the corners； and an unshaded space in the centre； where could be seen a very large； solitary tree； then several fruit…trees； gnarled and bristling like bushes； beds of vegetables； a melon patch； whose glass frames sparkled in the moonlight； and an old well。 Here and there stood stone benches which seemed black with moss。 The alleys were bordered with gloomy and very erect little shrubs。 The grass had half taken possession of them； and a green mould covered the rest。
Jean Valjean had beside him the building whose roof had served him as a means of descent； a pile of fagots； and； behind the fagots； directly against the wall； a stone statue； whose mutilated face was no longer anything more than a shapeless mask which loomed vaguely through the gloom。
The building was a sort of ruin； where dismantled chambers were distinguishable； one of which； much encumbered； seemed to serve as a shed。
The large building of the Rue Droit…Mur； which had a wing on the Rue Petit…Picpus； turned two facades； at right angles； towards this garden。 These interior facades were even more tragic than the exterior。 All the windows were grated。
Not a gleam of light was visible at any one of them。
The upper story had scuttles like prisons。 One of those facades cast its shadow on the other； which fell over the garden like an immense black pall。
No other house was visible。
The bottom of the garden was lost in mist and darkness。
Nevertheless； walls could be confusedly made out； which intersected as though there were more cultivated land beyond； and the low roofs of the Rue Polonceau。
Nothing more wild and solitary than this garden could be imagined。 There was no one in it； which was quite natural in view of the hour； but it did not seem as though this spot were made for any one to walk in； even in broad daylight。
Jean Valjean's first care had been to get hold of his shoes and put them on again； then to step under the shed with Cosette。 A man who is fleeing never thinks himself sufficiently hidden。 The child； whose thoughts were still on the Thenardier； shared his instinct for withdrawing from sight as much as possible。
Cosette trembled and pressed close to him。
They heard the tumultuous noise of the patrol searching the blind alley and the streets； the blows of their gun…stocks against the stones； Javert's appeals to the police spies whom he had posted； and his imprecations mingled with words which could not be distinguished。
At the expiration of a quarter of an hour it seemed as though that species of stormy roar were being more distant。
Jean Valjean held his breath。
He had laid his hand lightly on Cosette's mouth。
However； the solitude in which he stood was so strangely calm； that this frightful uproar； close and furious as it was； did not disturb him by so much as the shadow of a misgiving。 It seemed as though those walls had been built of the deaf stones of which the Scriptures speak。
All at once； in the midst of this profound calm； a fresh sound arose； a sound as celestial； divine； ineffable； ravishing； as the other had been horrible。
It was a hymn which issued from the gloom； a dazzling burst of prayer and harmony in the obscure and alarming silence of the night； women's voices； but voices posed at one and the same time of the pure accents of virgins and the innocent accents of children； voices which are not of the earth； and which resemble those that the newborn infant still hears； and which the dying man hears already。 This song proceeded from the gloomy edifice which towered above the garden。
At the moment when the hubbub of demons retreated； one would have said that a choir of angels was approaching through the gloom。
Cosette and Jean Valjean fell on their knees。
They knew not what it was； they knew not where they were； but both of them； the man and the child； the penitent and the innocent； felt that they must kneel。
These voices had this strange characteristic； that they did not prevent the building from seeming to be deserted。 It was a supernatural chant in an uninhabited house。
While these voices were singing； Jean Valjean thought of nothing。 He no longer beheld the night； he beheld a blue sky。
It seemed to him that he felt those wings which we all have within us； unfolding。
The song died away。
It may have lasted a long time。
Jean Valjean could not have told。
Hours of ecstasy are never more than a moment。
All fell silent again。
There was no longer anything in the street； there was nothing in the garden。
That which had menaced； that which had reassured him；all had vanished。
The breeze swayed a few dry weeds on the crest of the wall； and they gave out a faint； sweet； melancholy sound。
BOOK FIFTH。FOR A BLACK HUNT； A MUTE PACK
CHAPTER VII
CONTINUATION OF THE ENIGMA
The night wind had risen； which indicated that it must be between one and two o'clock in the morning。
Poor Cosette said nothing。 As she had seated herself beside him and leaned her head against him； Jean Valjean had fancied that she was asleep。
He bent down and looked at her。
Cosette's eyes were wide open； and her thoughtful air pained Jean Valjean。
She was still trembling。