CHAPTER IV--THE GROPINGS OF FLIGHT

  In order to understand what follows, it is requisite to form an exactidea of the Droit-Mur lane, and, in particular, of the angle which oneleaves on the left when one emerges from the Rue Polonceau into thislane. Droit-Mur lane was almost entirely bordered on the right, as faras the Rue Petit-Picpus, by houses of mean aspect; on the left by asolitary building of severe outlines, composed of numerous parts whichgrew gradually higher by a story or two as they approached the RuePetit-Picpus side; so that this building, which was very lofty on theRue Petit-Picpus side, was tolerably low on the side adjoining the RuePolonceau. There, at the angle of which we have spoken, it descended tosuch a degree that it consisted of merely a wall. This wall did not abutdirectly on the street; it formed a deeply retreating niche, concealedby its two corners from two observers who might have been, one in theRue Polonceau, the other in the Rue Droit-Mur.

  Beginning with these angles of the niche, the wall extended along theRue Polonceau as far as a house which bore the number 49, and along theRue Droit-Mur, where the fragment was much shorter, as far as the gloomybuilding which we have mentioned and whose gable it intersected, thusforming another retreating angle in the street. This gable was sombreof aspect; only one window was visible, or, to speak more correctly, twoshutters covered with a sheet of zinc and kept constantly closed.

  The state of the places of which we are here giving a description isrigorously exact, and will certainly awaken a very precise memory in themind of old inhabitants of the quarter.

  The niche was entirely filled by a thing which resembled a colossaland wretched door; it was a vast, formless assemblage of perpendicularplanks, the upper ones being broader than the lower, bound together bylong transverse strips of iron. At one side there was a carriage gate ofthe ordinary dimensions, and which had evidently not been cut more thanfifty years previously.

  A linden-tree showed its crest above the niche, and the wall was coveredwith ivy on the side of the Rue Polonceau.

  In the imminent peril in which Jean Valjean found himself, this sombrebuilding had about it a solitary and uninhabited look which tempted him.He ran his eyes rapidly over it; he said to himself, that if he couldcontrive to get inside it, he might save himself. First he conceived anidea, then a hope.

  In the central portion of the front of this building, on the RueDroit-Mur side, there were at all the windows of the different storiesancient cistern pipes of lead. The various branches of the pipes whichled from one central pipe to all these little basins sketched out a sortof tree on the front. These ramifications of pipes with their hundredelbows imitated those old leafless vine-stocks which writhe over thefronts of old farm-houses.

  This odd espalier, with its branches of lead and iron, was the firstthing that struck Jean Valjean. He seated Cosette with her back againsta stone post, with an injunction to be silent, and ran to the spot wherethe conduit touched the pavement. Perhaps there was some way of climbingup by it and entering the house. But the pipe was dilapidated and pastservice, and hardly hung to its fastenings. Moreover, all the windowsof this silent dwelling were grated with heavy iron bars, even the atticwindows in the roof. And then, the moon fell full upon that façade, andthe man who was watching at the corner of the street would have seenJean Valjean in the act of climbing. And finally, what was to be donewith Cosette? How was she to be drawn up to the top of a three-storyhouse?

  He gave up all idea of climbing by means of the drain-pipe, and crawledalong the wall to get back into the Rue Polonceau.

  When he reached the slant of the wall where he had left Cosette, henoticed that no one could see him there. As we have just explained, hewas concealed from all eyes, no matter from which direction they wereapproaching; besides this, he was in the shadow. Finally, there weretwo doors; perhaps they might be forced. The wall above which he saw thelinden-tree and the ivy evidently abutted on a garden where he could, atleast, hide himself, although there were as yet no leaves on the trees,and spend the remainder of the night.

  Time was passing; he must act quickly.

  He felt over the carriage door, and immediately recognized the fact thatit was impracticable outside and in.

  He approached the other door with more hope; it was frightfullydecrepit; its very immensity rendered it less solid; the planks wererotten; the iron bands--there were only three of them--were rusted. Itseemed as though it might be possible to pierce this worm-eaten barrier.

  On examining it he found that the door was not a door; it had neitherhinges, cross-bars, lock, nor fissure in the middle; the iron bandstraversed it from side to side without any break. Through the crevicesin the planks he caught a view of unhewn slabs and blocks of stoneroughly cemented together, which passers-by might still have seen thereten years ago. He was forced to acknowledge with consternation that thisapparent door was simply the wooden decoration of a building againstwhich it was placed. It was easy to tear off a plank; but then, onefound one's self face to face with a wall.