188 Les Miserables
rows here and there, whose odor as he passed through them
in his march recalled to him memories of his childhood.
These memories were almost intolerable to him, it was so
long since they had recurred to him.
Unutterable thoughts assembled within him in this man-
ner all day long.
As the sun declined to its setting, casting long shadows
athwart the soil from every pebble, Jean Valjean sat down
behind a bush upon a large ruddy plain, which was abso-
lutely deserted. There was nothing on the horizon except
the Alps. Not even the spire of a distant village. Jean Valjean
might have been three leagues distant from D—— A path
which intersected the plain passed a few paces from the
bush.
In the middle of this meditation, which would have con-
tributed not a little to render his rags terrifying to any one
who might have encountered him, a joyous sound became
audible.
He turned his head and saw a little Savoyard, about ten
years of age, coming up the path and singing, his hurdy-
gurdy on his hip, and his marmot-box on his back,
One of those gay and gentle children, who go from land
to land affording a view of their knees through the holes in
their trousers.
Without stopping his song, the lad halted in his march
from time to time, and played at knuckle-bones with some
coins which he had in his hand—his whole fortune, prob-
ably.
Among this money there was one forty-sou piece.