ed in a whining voice, "Thanks, my good sir."
It was unmistakably the ex-beadle.
Jean Valjean felt completely reassured.
He began to laugh. "How the deuce could I have thought that I saw Javert there?" he thought.
"Am I going to lose my eyesight now?"
And he thought no more about it.
A few days afterwards,--it might have been at eight o''clock in the evening,--he was in his room, and engaged in making Cosette spell aloud, when he heard the house door open and then shut again. This struck him as singular.
The old woman, who was the only inhabitant of the house except himself, always went to bed at nightfall, so that she might not burn out her candles.
Jean Valjean made a sign to Cosette to be quiet.
He heard some one ascending the stairs. It might possibly be the old woman, who might have fallen ill and have been out to the apothecary''s. Jean Valjean listened.
The step was heavy, and sounded like that of a man; but the old woman wore stout shoes, and there is nothing which so strongly resembles the step of a man as that of an old woman.
Nevertheless, Jean Valjean blew out his candle.
He had sent Cosette to bed, saying to her in a low voice, "Get into bed very softly"; and as he kissed her brow, the steps paused.
Jean Valjean remained silent, motionless, with his back towards the door, seated on the chair from which he had not stirred, and holding his breath in the dark.