Les Miserables

(やまだぃちぅ) #1

770 Les Miserables


Mur and the Rue Petit-Picpus, he recoiled. There could be
no doubt of it. That phantom was lying in wait for him.
What was he to do?
The time for retreating was passed. That which he had
perceived in movement an instant before, in the distant
darkness, was Javert and his squad without a doubt. Javert
was probably already at the commencement of the street at
whose end Jean Valjean stood. Javert, to all appearances,
was acquainted with this little labyrinth, and had taken his
precautions by sending one of his men to guard the exit.
These surmises, which so closely resembled proofs, whirled
suddenly, like a handful of dust caught up by an unexpected
gust of wind, through Jean Valjean’s mournful brain. He
examined the Cul-de-Sac Genrot; there he was cut off. He
examined the Rue Petit-Picpus; there stood a sentinel. He
saw that black form standing out in relief against the white
pavement, illuminated by the moon; to advance was to fall
into this man’s hands; to retreat was to fling himself into
Javert’s arms. Jean Valjean felt himself caught, as in a net,
which was slowly contracting; he gazed heavenward in de-
spair.
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