300 Les Miserables
tling in the throat in the most lamentable manner. They had
tried, but in vain, to drag him out. An unmethodical effort,
aid awkwardly given, a wrong shake, might kill him. It was
impossible to disengage him otherwise than by lifting the
vehicle off of him. Javert, who had come up at the moment
of the accident, had sent for a jack-screw.
M. Madeleine arrived. People stood aside respectfully.
‘Help!’ cried old Fauchelevent. ‘Who will be good and
save the old man?’
M. Madeleine turned towards those present:—
‘Is there a jack-screw to be had?’
‘One has been sent for,’ answered the peasant.
‘How long will it take to get it?’
‘They have gone for the nearest, to Flachot’s place, where
there is a farrier; but it makes no difference; it will take a
good quarter of an hour.’
‘A quarter of an hour!’ exclaimed Madeleine.
It had rained on the preceding night; the soil was
soaked.
The cart was sinking deeper into the earth every mo-
ment, and crushing the old carter’s breast more and more.
It was evident that his ribs would be broken in five minutes
more.
‘It is impossible to wait another quarter of an hour,’ said
Madeleine to the peasants, who were staring at him.
‘We must!’
‘But it will be too late then! Don’t you see that the cart is
sinking?’
‘Well!’