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At the end of a few moments the child had disappeared.
The sun had set.
The shadows were descending around Jean Valjean. He
had eaten nothing all day; it is probable that he was fever-
ish.
He had remained standing and had not changed his at-
titude after the child’s flight. The breath heaved his chest at
long and irregular intervals. His gaze, fixed ten or twelve
paces in front of him, seemed to be scrutinizing with pro-
found attention the shape of an ancient fragment of blue
earthenware which had fallen in the grass. All at once he
shivered; he had just begun to feel the chill of evening.
He settled his cap more firmly on his brow, sought me-
chanically to cross and button his blouse, advanced a step
and stopped to pick up his cudgel.
At that moment he caught sight of the forty-sou piece,
which his foot had half ground into the earth, and which
was shining among the pebbles. It was as though he had re-
ceived a galvanic shock. ‘What is this?’ he muttered between
his teeth. He recoiled three paces, then halted, without be-
ing able to detach his gaze from the spot which his foot had
trodden but an instant before, as though the thing which lay
glittering there in the gloom had been an open eye riveted
upon him.
At the expiration of a few moments he darted convul-
sively towards the silver coin, seized it, and straightened
himself up again and began to gaze afar off over the plain,
at the same time casting his eyes towards all points of the
horizon, as he stood there erect and shivering, like a terri-