ad entered the tomb, it seemed to him that he was already on the other side of the wall, and he no longer beheld the faces of the living except with the eyes of one dead.
How did M. Fauchelevent come there?
Why was he there?
What had he come there to do?
Marius did not address all these questions to himself.
Besides, since our despair has this peculiarity, that it envelops others as well as ourselves, it seemed logical to him that all the world should come thither to die.
Only, he thought of Cosette with a pang at his heart.
However, M. Fauchelevent did not speak to him, did not look at him, and had not even the air of hearing him, when Marius raised his voice to say:
"I know him."
As far as Marius was concerned, this attitude of M. Fauchelevent was comforting, and, if such a word can be used for such impressions, we should say that it pleased him.
He had always felt the absolute impossibility of addressing that enigmatical man, who was, in his eyes, both equivocal and imposing.
Moreover, it had been a long time since he had seen him; and this still further augmented the impossibility for Marius'' timid and reserved nature.
The five chosen men left the barricade by way of Mondetour lane; they bore a perfect resemblance to members of the National Guard. One of them wept as he took his leave.