474 Les Miserables
‘Cochepaille, you have, near the bend in your left arm,
a date stamped in blue letters with burnt powder; the date
is that of the landing of the Emperor at Cannes, March 1,
1815; pull up your sleeve!’
Cochepaille pushed up his sleeve; all eyes were focused
on him and on his bare arm.
A gendarme held a light close to it; there was the date.
The unhappy man turned to the spectators and the judg-
es with a smile which still rends the hearts of all who saw it
whenever they think of it. It was a smile of triumph; it was
also a smile of despair.
‘You see plainly,’ he said, ‘that I am Jean Valjean.’
In that chamber there were no longer either judges, ac-
cusers, nor gendarmes; there was nothing but staring eyes
and sympathizing hearts. No one recalled any longer the
part that each might be called upon to play; the district-
attorney forgot he was there for the purpose of prosecuting,
the President that he was there to preside, the counsel for
the defence that he was there to defend. It was a striking
circumstance that no question was put, that no authority
intervened. The peculiarity of sublime spectacles is, that
they capture all souls and turn witnesses into spectators.
No one, probably, could have explained what he felt; no one,
probably, said to himself that he was witnessing the splen-
did outburst of a grand light: all felt themselves inwardly
dazzled.
It was evident that they had Jean Valjean before their
eyes. That was clear. The appearance of this man had suf-
ficed to suffuse with light that matter which had been so