606 Les Miserables
road. Towards the middle, at the point where it became lev-
el, where Delort’s division had passed, the layer of corpses
was thinner.
The nocturnal prowler whom we have just shown to the
reader was going in that direction. He was searching that
vast tomb. He gazed about. He passed the dead in some sort
of hideous review. He walked with his feet in the blood.
All at once he paused.
A few paces in front of him, in the hollow road, at the
point where the pile of dead came to an end, an open hand,
illumined by the moon, projected from beneath that heap
of men. That hand had on its finger something sparkling,
which was a ring of gold.
The man bent over, remained in a crouching attitude for
a moment, and when he rose there was no longer a ring on
the hand.
He did not precisely rise; he remained in a stooping and
frightened attitude, with his back turned to the heap of
dead, scanning the horizon on his knees, with the whole
upper portion of his body supported on his two forefingers,
which rested on the earth, and his head peering above the
edge of the hollow road. The jackal’s four paws suit some
actions.
Then coming to a decision, he rose to his feet.
At that moment, he gave a terrible start. He felt some one
clutch him from behind.
He wheeled round; it was the open hand, which had
closed, and had seized the skirt of his coat.
An honest man would have been terrified; this man burst