CHAPTER VI--TAKEN PRISONER

  On one of the last days of the second week, Marius was seated on hisbench, as usual, holding in his hand an open book, of which he had notturned a page for the last two hours. All at once he started. An eventwas taking place at the other extremity of the walk. Leblanc and hisdaughter had just left their seat, and the daughter had taken herfather's arm, and both were advancing slowly, towards the middle of thealley where Marius was. Marius closed his book, then opened it again,then forced himself to read; he trembled; the aureole was comingstraight towards him. "Ah! good Heavens!" thought he, "I shall not havetime to strike an attitude." Still the white-haired man and the girladvanced. It seemed to him that this lasted for a century, and that itwas but a second. "What are they coming in this direction for?" he askedhimself. "What! She will pass here? Her feet will tread this sand, thiswalk, two paces from me?" He was utterly upset, he would have liked tobe very handsome, he would have liked to own the cross. He heard thesoft and measured sound of their approaching footsteps. He imagined thatM. Leblanc was darting angry glances at him. "Is that gentleman going toaddress me?" he thought to himself. He dropped his head; when he raisedit again, they were very near him. The young girl passed, and as shepassed, she glanced at him. She gazed steadily at him, with a pensivesweetness which thrilled Marius from head to foot. It seemed to himthat she was reproaching him for having allowed so long a time to elapsewithout coming as far as her, and that she was saying to him: "I amcoming myself." Marius was dazzled by those eyes fraught with rays andabysses.

  He felt his brain on fire. She had come to him, what joy! And then, howshe had looked at him! She appeared to him more beautiful than he hadever seen her yet. Beautiful with a beauty which was wholly feminine andangelic, with a complete beauty which would have made Petrarch sing andDante kneel. It seemed to him that he was floating free in the azureheavens. At the same time, he was horribly vexed because there was duston his boots.

  He thought he felt sure that she had looked at his boots too.

  He followed her with his eyes until she disappeared. Then he startedup and walked about the Luxembourg garden like a madman. It is possiblethat, at times, he laughed to himself and talked aloud. He was so dreamywhen he came near the children's nurses, that each one of them thoughthim in love with her.

  He quitted the Luxembourg, hoping to find her again in the street.

  He encountered Courfeyrac under the arcades of the Odéon, and said tohim: "Come and dine with me." They went off to Rousseau's and spentsix francs. Marius ate like an ogre. He gave the waiter six sous. Atdessert, he said to Courfeyrac. "Have you read the paper? What a finediscourse Audry de Puyraveau delivered!"

  He was desperately in love.

  After dinner, he said to Courfeyrac: "I will treat you to the play."They went to the Porte-Sainte-Martin to see Frédérick in _l'Auberge desAdrets_. Marius was enormously amused.

  At the same time, he had a redoubled attack of shyness. On emergingfrom the theatre, he refused to look at the garter of a modiste who wasstepping across a gutter, and Courfeyrac, who said: "I should like toput that woman in my collection," almost horrified him.

  Courfeyrac invited him to breakfast at the Café Voltaire on thefollowing morning. Marius went thither, and ate even more than on thepreceding evening. He was very thoughtful and very merry. One wouldhave said that he was taking advantage of every occasion to laughuproariously. He tenderly embraced some man or other from the provinces,who was presented to him. A circle of students formed round the table,and they spoke of the nonsense paid for by the State which was utteredfrom the rostrum in the Sorbonne, then the conversation fell upon thefaults and omissions in Guicherat's dictionaries and grammars. Mariusinterrupted the discussion to exclaim: "But it is very agreeable, allthe same to have the cross!"

  "That's queer!" whispered Courfeyrac to Jean Prouvaire.

  "No," responded Prouvaire, "that's serious."

  It was serious; in fact, Marius had reached that first violent andcharming hour with which grand passions begin.

  A glance had wrought all this.

  When the mine is charged, when the conflagration is ready, nothing ismore simple. A glance is a spark.

  It was all over with him. Marius loved a woman. His fate was enteringthe unknown.

  The glance of women resembles certain combinations of wheels, which aretranquil in appearance yet formidable. You pass close to them everyday, peaceably and with impunity, and without a suspicion of anything. Amoment arrives when you forget that the thing is there. You go and come,dream, speak, laugh. All at once you feel yourself clutched; all isover. The wheels hold you fast, the glance has ensnared you. It hascaught you, no matter where or how, by some portion of your thoughtwhich was fluttering loose, by some distraction which had attacked you.You are lost. The whole of you passes into it. A chain of mysteriousforces takes possession of you. You struggle in vain; no more humansuccor is possible. You go on falling from gearing to gearing, fromagony to agony, from torture to torture, you, your mind, your fortune,your future, your soul; and, according to whether you are in the powerof a wicked creature, or of a noble heart, you will not escape from thisterrifying machine otherwise than disfigured with shame, or transfiguredby passion.