784 Les Miserables
They knew not what it was, they knew not where they
were; but both of them, the man and the child, the penitent
and the innocent, felt that they must kneel.
These voices had this strange characteristic, that they
did not prevent the building from seeming to be deserted. It
was a supernatural chant in an uninhabited house.
While these voices were singing, Jean Valjean thought
of nothing. He no longer beheld the night; he beheld a blue
sky. It seemed to him that he felt those wings which we all
have within us, unfolding.
The song died away. It may have lasted a long time. Jean
Valjean could not have told. Hours of ecstasy are never more
than a moment.
All fell silent again. There was no longer anything in
the street; there was nothing in the garden. That which had
menaced, that which had reassured him,—all had vanished.
The breeze swayed a few dry weeds on the crest of the wall,
and they gave out a faint, sweet, melancholy sound.