The night wind had risen， which indicated that it must be between one and two o'clock in the morning. Poor Cosette said nothing. As she had seated herself beside him and leaned her head against him， Jean Valjean had fancied that she was asleep. He bent down and looked at her. Cosette's eyes were wide open， and her thoughtful air pained Jean Valjean.

She was still trembling.

"Are you sleepy?" said Jean Valjean.

"I am very cold，" she replied.

A moment later she resumed:--

"Is she still there?"

"Who?" said Jean Valjean.

"Madame Thenardier."

Jean Valjean had already forgotten the means which he had employed to make Cosette keep silent.

"Ah!" said he， "she is gone. You need fear nothing further."

The child sighed as though a load had been lifted from her breast.

The ground was damp， the shed open on all sides， the breeze grew more keen every instant. The goodman took off his coat and wrapped it round Cosette.

"Are you less cold now?" said he.

"Oh， yes， father."

"Well， wait for me a moment. I will soon be back."

He quitted the ruin and crept along the large building， seeking a better shelter. He came across doors， but they were closed. There were bars at all the windows of the ground floor.

Just after he had turned the inner angle of the edifice， he observed that he was coming to some arched windows， where he perceived a light. He stood on tiptoe and peeped through one of these windows. They all opened on a tolerably vast hall， paved with large flagstones， cut up by arcades and pillars， where only a tiny light and great shadows were visible. The light came from a taper which was burning in one corner. The apartment was deserted， and nothing was stirring in it. Nevertheless， by dint of gazing intently he thought he perceived on the ground something which appeared to be covered with a winding-sheet， and which resembled a human form. This form was lying face downward， flat on the pavement， with the arms extended in the form of a cross， in the immobility of death. One would have said， judging from a sort of serpent which undulated over the floor， that this sinister form had a rope round its neck.

The whole chamber was bathed in that mist of places which are sparely illuminated， which adds to horror.

Jean Valjean often said afterwards， that， although many funereal spectres had crossed his path in life， he had never beheld anything more blood-curdling and terrible than that enigmatical form accomplishing some inexplicable mystery in that gloomy place， and beheld thus at night. It was alarming to suppose that that thing was perhaps dead; and still more alarming to think that it was perhaps alive.

He had the courage to plaster his face to the glass， and to watch whether the thing would move. In spite of his remaining thus what seemed to him a very long time， the outstretched form made no movement. All at once he felt himself overpowered by an inexpressible terror， and he fled. He began to run towards the shed， not daring to look behind him. It seemed to him， that if he turned his head， he should see that form following him with great strides and waving its arms.

He reached the ruin all out of breath. His knees were giving way beneath him; the perspiration was pouring from him.

Where was he? Who could ever have imagined anything like that sort of sepulchre in the midst of Paris! What was this strange house? An edifice full of nocturnal mystery， calling to souls through the darkness with the voice of angels， and when they came， offering them abruptly that terrible vision; promising to open the radiant portals of heaven， and then opening the horrible gates of the tomb! And it actually was an edifice， a house， which bore a number on the street! It was not a dream! He had to touch the stones to convince himself that such was the fact.

Cold， anxiety， uneasiness， the emotions of the night， had given him a genuine fever， and all these ideas were clashing together in his brain.

He stepped up to Cosette. She was asleep.

晚风起了，这说明已到了早晨一两点钟左右。可怜的珂赛特一句话也不说。她倚在他身旁，坐在地上，头靠着他，冉阿让以为她睡着了。他低下头去望她。珂赛特的眼睛睁得滚圆，好象在担着心事，冉阿让见了，不禁一阵心酸。

她一直在发抖。

“你想睡吗？”冉阿让说。

“我冷。”她回答。

过一会，她又说：

“她还没有走吗？”

“谁？”冉阿让说。

“德纳第太太。”

冉阿让早已忘了他先头用来噤住珂赛特的方法。

“啊！”他说，“她已经走了。不用害怕。”

孩子叹了一口气，好象压在她胸口上的一块石头拿掉了。

地是潮的，棚子全敞着，风越来越冷了。老人脱下大衣裹着珂赛特。

“这样你冷得好一点了吧？”他说。

“好多了，爹！”

“那么，你等一会儿。我马上就回来。”

他从破棚子里出来、沿着大楼走去，想找一处比较安稳的藏身的地方。他看见好几扇门，但是都是关了的。楼下的窗子全装了铁条。

他刚走过那建筑物靠里一端的墙角，看见面前有几扇圆顶窗，窗子还亮着。他立在一扇这样的窗子前面，踮起脚尖朝里看。这些窗子都通到一间相当大的厅堂，地上铺了宽石板，厅中间有石柱，顶上有穹窿，一点点微光和大片的阴影相互间隔。光是从墙角上的一盏油灯里发出来的。厅里毫无声息，毫无动静。可是，仔细望去，他仿佛看见地面石板上横着一件东西，好象是个人的身体，上面盖着一条裹尸布。那东西直挺挺伏在地上，脸朝石板，两臂向左右平伸，和身体构成一个十字形，丝毫不动，死了似的。那骇人的物体，颈子上仿佛有根绳子，象蛇一象拖在石板上。

整个厅堂全在昏暗的灯影中若隐若现，望去格外令人恐惧。

冉阿让在事后经常说到他一生虽然见过不少次死人，却从来不曾见过比这次更寒心更可怕的景象，他在这阴森的地方、凄清的黑夜里见到这种僵卧的人形，简直无法猜透这里的奥妙。假如那东西是死的，那也已够使人胆寒的了，假如它也许还是活的，那就更足使人胆寒。

他有胆量把额头抵在玻璃窗上，想看清楚那东西究竟还动不动。他看了一会儿，越看越害怕，那僵卧的人形竟一丝不动。忽然，他觉得自己被一种说不出的恐怖控制住了，不得不逃走。他朝着棚子逃回来，一下也不敢往后看，他觉得一回头就会看到那人形迈着大步张牙舞爪地跟在他后面。

他心惊气喘地跑到了破屋边。膝头往下跪，腰里流着汗。

他是在什么地方？谁能想到在巴黎的城中心竟会有这种类似鬼域的地方？那所怪楼究竟是什么？好一座阴森神秘的建筑物，刚才还有天使们的歌声在黑暗中招引人的灵魂，人来了，却又陡然示以这种骇人的景象，既已允诺大开光明灿烂的天国之门，却又享人以触目惊心的坟坑墓穴！而那确是一座建筑物，一座临街的有门牌号数的房屋！这并不是梦境！他得摸摸墙上的石条才敢自信。

寒冷，焦急，忧虑，一夜的惊恐，真使他浑身发烧了，万千思绪在他的脑子里萦绕。

他走到珂赛特身旁，她已经睡着了。