Part 1 Book 2 Chapter 10 The Man aroused
what woke him was that his bed was too good. it was nearly twenty years since he had slept in a bed, and, although he had not undressed, the sensation was too novel not to disturb his slumbers.
he had slept more than four hours. his fatigue had passed away. he was accustomed not to devote many hours to repose.
he opened his eyes and stared into the gloom which surrounded him; then he closed them again, with the intention of going to sleep once more.
when many varied sensations have agitated the day, when various matters preoccupy the mind, one falls asleep once, but not a second time. sleep comes more easily than it returns. this is what happened to jean valjean. he could not get to sleep again, and he fell to thinking.
he was at one of those moments when the thoughts which one has in one's mind are troubled. there was a sort of dark confusion in his brain. his memories of the olden time and of the immediate present floated there pell-mell and mingled confusedly, losing their proper forms, becoming disproportionately large, then suddenly disappearing, as in a muddy and perturbed pool. many thoughts occurred to him; but there was one which kept constantly presenting itself afresh, and which drove away all others. we will mention this thought at once: he had observed the six sets of silver forks and spoons and the ladle which madame magloire had placed on the table.
those six sets of silver haunted him.--they were there.--a few paces distant.--just as he was traversing the adjoining room to reach the one in which he then was, the old servant-woman had been in the act of placing them in a little cupboard near the head of the bed.-- he had taken careful note of this cupboard.--on the right, as you entered from the dining-room.--they were solid.--and old silver.-- from the ladle one could get at least two hundred francs.-- double what he had earned in nicomeen years.--it is true that he would have earned more if "the administration had not robbed him."
his mind wavered for a whole hour in fluctuations with which there was certainly mingled some struggle. three o'clock struck. he opened his eyes again, drew himself up abruptly into a sitting posture, stretched out his arm and felt of his knapsack, which he had thrown down on a corner of the alcove; then he hung his legs over the edge of the bed, and placed his feet on the floor, and thus found himself, almost without knowing it, seated on his bed.
he remained for a time thoughtfully in this attitude, which would have been suggestive of something sinister for any one who had seen him thus in the dark, the only person awake in that house where all were sleeping. all of a sudden he stooped down, removed his shoes and placed them softly on the mat beside the bed; then he resumed his thoughtful attitude, and became motionless once more.
throughout this hideous meditation, the thoughts which we have above indicated moved incessantly through his brain; entered, withdrew, re-entered, and in a manner oppressed him; and then he thought, also, without knowing why, and with the mechanical persistence of revery, of a convict named brevet, whom he had known in the galleys, and whose trousers had been upheld by a single suspender of knitted cotton. the checkered pattern of that suspender recurred incessantly to his mind.
he remained in this situation, and would have so remained indefinitely, even until daybreak, had not the clock struck one--the half or quarter hour. it seemed to him that that stroke said to him, "come on!"
he rose to his feet, hesitated still another moment, and listened; all was quiet in the house; then he walked straight ahead, with short steps, to the window, of which he caught a glimpse. the night was not very dark; there was a full moon, across which coursed large clouds driven by the wind. this created, outdoors, alternate shadow and gleams of light, eclipses, then bright openings of the clouds; and indoors a sort of twilight. this twilight, sufficient to enable a person to see his way, intermittent on account of the clouds, resembled the sort of livid light which falls through an air-hole in a cellar, before which the passersby come and go. on arriving at the window, jean valjean examined it. it had no grating; it opened in the garden and was fastened, according to the fashion of the country, only by a small pin. he opened it; but as a rush of cold and piercing air pecomrated the room abruptly, he closed it again immediately. he scrutinized the garden with that attentive gaze which studies rather than looks. the garden was enclosed by a tolerably low white wall, easy to climb. far away, at the extremity, he perceived tops of trees, spaced at regular intervals, which indicated that the wall separated the garden from an avenue or lane planted with trees.
having taken this survey, he executed a movement like that of a man who has made up his mind, strode to his alcove, grasped his knapsack, opened it, fumbled in it, pulled out of it something which he placed on the bed, put his shoes into one of his pockets, shut the whole thing up again, threw the knapsack on his shoulders, put on his cap, drew the visor down over his eyes, felt for his cudgel, went and placed it in the angle of the window; then returned to the bed, and resolutely seized the object which he had deposited there. it resembled a short bar of iron, pointed like a pike at one end. it would have been difficult to distinguish in that darkness for what employment that bit of iron could have been designed. perhaps it was a lever; possibly it was a club.
in the daytime it would have been possible to recognize it as nothing more than a miner's candlestick. convicts were, at that period, sometimes employed in quarrying stone from the lofty hills which environ toulon, and it was not rare for them to have miners' tools at their command. these miners' candlesticks are of massive iron, terminated at the lower extremity by a point, by means of which they are stuck into the rock.
he took the candlestick in his right hand; holding his breath and trying to deaden the sound of his tread, he directed his steps to the door of the adjoining room, occupied by the bishop, as we already know.
on arriving at this door, he found it ajar. the bishop had not closed it.
天主堂的钟正敲着早晨两点，冉阿让醒了。
那张床太舒服，因此他醒了。他没有床睡，已经快十九年了，他虽然没有脱衣，但那种感受太新奇，不能不影响他的睡眠。
他睡了四个多钟头，疲乏已经过去。他早已习惯不在休息上多花时间。
他张开眼睛，向他四周的黑暗望了一阵，随后又闭上眼，想再睡一会儿。
假使白天的感触太复杂，脑子里的事太多，我们就只能睡，而不能重行入睡，睡容易，再睡难。这正是冉阿让的情形。
他不能再睡，他便想。
他正陷入这种思想紊乱的时刻，在他的脑子里有一种看不见的、来来去去的东西。他的旧恨和新愁在他的心里翻来倒去，凌乱杂沓，漫无条理，既失去它们的形状，也无限扩大了它们的范围，随后又仿佛忽然消失在一股汹涌的浊流中。他想到许多事，但是其中有一件却反反复复一再出现，并且排除了其余的事。这一件，我们立即说出来，他注意了马格洛大娘先头放在桌上的那六副银器和那只大汤勺。
那六副银器使他烦懑。那些东西就在那里。只有几步路。刚才他经过隔壁那间屋子走到他房里来时，老大娘正把那些东西放在床头的小壁橱里。他特别注意了那壁橱。进餐室，朝右走。那些东西多重呵！并且是古银器，连那大勺至少可以卖二百法郎。是他在十九年里所赚的一倍。的确，假使“官府”没有“偷盗”他，他也许还多赚几文。
他心里反反复复，踌躇不决，斗争了整整一个钟头。三点敲过了。他重行睁开眼睛，忽然坐了起来，伸手去摸他先头丢在壁厢角里的那只布袋，随后他垂下两腿，又把脚踏在地上，几乎不知道怎样会坐在床边的。
他那样坐着，发了一阵呆，房子里的人全睡着了，惟有他独自一人醒着，假使有人看见他那样呆坐在黑暗角落里，一定会吃一惊的。他忽然弯下腰去，脱下鞋子，轻轻放在床前的席子上，又恢复他那发呆的样子，待着不动。
在那种可怕的思考中，我们刚指出的那种念头不停地在他的脑海里翻搅着，进去又出来，出来又进去，使他感受到一种压力；同时他不知道为什么，会带着梦想中那种机械的顽固性，想到他从前在监狱里认识他一个叫布莱卫的囚犯，那人的裤子只用一根棉织的背带吊住。那根背带的棋盘格花纹不停地在他脑子里显现出来。
他在那样的情形下呆着不动，并且也许会一直呆到天明，如果那只挂钟没有敲那一下棗报一刻或报半点的一下。那一下仿佛是对他说：“来吧！”
他站起来，又迟疑了一会，再侧耳细听，房子里一点声音也没有，于是他小步小步一直朝前走到隐约可辨的窗边。当时夜色并不很暗，风高月圆，白云掩映；云来月隐，云过月明，因此窗外时明时暗，室内也偶得微光。那种微光，足使室内的人行走，由于行云的作用，屋内也乍明乍暗，仿佛是人在地下室里，见风窗外面不时有人来往一样，因而室内黯淡的光也忽强忽弱。冉阿让走到窗边，把它仔细看了一遍，它没有铁闩，只有它的活梢扣着，这原是那地方的习惯。窗外便是那园子。他把窗子打开，于是一股冷空气突然钻进房来，他又立刻把它关上。他仔仔细细把那园子瞧了一遍，应当说，研究了一遍。园的四周绕着一道白围墙，相当低，容易越过。在园的尽头，围墙外面，他看见成列的树梢，彼此距离相等，说明墙外便是一条林荫道，或是一条栽有树木的小路。
瞧了那一眼之后，他做了一个表示决心的动作，向壁厢走去，拿起他的布袋，打开，从里面搜出一件东西，放在床上，又把他的鞋子塞进袋里，扣好布袋，驮在肩上，藏上他的便帽，帽檐齐眉，又伸手去摸他的棍子，把它放在窗角上，回到床边，毅然决然拿起先头放在床上的那件东西。好象是根短铁钎，一端磨到和标枪一般尖。
在黑暗里我们不易辨出那铁钎是为了作什么用才磨成那个样子的，这也许是根撬棍，也许是把铁杵。
如果是在白天，我们便认得出来，那只是一根矿工用的蜡烛钎。当时，常常派犯人到土伦周围的那些高丘上去采取岩石，他们便时常持有矿工的器械。矿工的蜡烛钎是用粗铁条做的，下面一端尖，为了好插在岩石里。
他用右手握住那根烛钎，屏住呼吸，放轻脚步，走向隔壁那间屋子，我们知道，那是主教的卧房。走到门边，他看见门是掩着的，留着一条缝。主教并没有把它关上。