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 Thénardier. ' 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