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obscure but a moment previously, without any further ex-
planation: the whole crowd, as by a sort of electric revelation,
understood instantly and at a single glance the simple and
magnificent history of a man who was delivering himself up
so that another man might not be condemned in his stead.
The details, the hesitations, little possible oppositions, were
swallowed up in that vast and luminous fact.
It was an impression which vanished speedily, but which
was irresistible at the moment.
‘I do not wish to disturb the court further,’ resumed Jean
Valjean. ‘I shall withdraw, since you do not arrest me. I have
many things to do. The district-attorney knows who I am;
he knows whither I am going; he can have me arrested when
he likes.’
He directed his steps towards the door. Not a voice was
raised, not an arm extended to hinder him. All stood aside.
At that moment there was about him that divine something
which causes multitudes to stand aside and make way for
a man. He traversed the crowd slowly. It was never known
who opened the door, but it is certain that he found the door
open when he reached it. On arriving there he turned round
and said:—
‘I am at your command, Mr. District-Attorney.’
Then he addressed the audience:—
‘All of you, all who are present—consider me worthy of
pity, do you not? Good God! When I think of what I was on
the point of doing, I consider that I am to be envied. Never-
theless, I should have preferred not to have had this occur.’
He withdrew, and the door closed behind him as it had