388 Les Miserables
This must be done! He had done nothing if he did not do all
this; his whole life was useless; all his penitence was wast-
ed. There was no longer any need of saying, ‘What is the
use?’ He felt that the Bishop was there, that the Bishop was
present all the more because he was dead, that the Bishop
was gazing fixedly at him, that henceforth Mayor Made-
leine, with all his virtues, would be abominable to him, and
that the convict Jean Valjean would be pure and admirable
in his sight; that men beheld his mask, but that the Bishop
saw his face; that men saw his life, but that the Bishop be-
held his conscience. So he must go to Arras, deliver the false
Jean Valjean, and denounce the real one. Alas! that was the
greatest of sacrifices, the most poignant of victories, the last
step to take; but it must be done. Sad fate! he would enter
into sanctity only in the eyes of God when he returned to
infamy in the eyes of men.
‘Well,’ said he, ‘let us decide upon this; let us do our duty;
let us save this man.’ He uttered these words aloud, without
perceiving that he was speaking aloud.
He took his books, verified them, and put them in order.
He flung in the fire a bundle of bills which he had against
petty and embarrassed tradesmen. He wrote and sealed
a letter, and on the envelope it might have been read, had
there been any one in his chamber at the moment, To Mon-
sieur Laffitte, Banker, Rue d’Artois, Paris. He drew from
his secretary a pocket-book which contained several bank-
notes and the passport of which he had made use that same
year when he went to the elections.
Any one who had seen him during the execution of these