All situations have their instincts. Old and eternal Mother Nature warned Jean Valjean in a dim way of the presence of Marius. Jean Valjean shuddered to the very bottom of his soul. Jean Valjean saw nothing, knew nothing, and yet he scanned with obstinate attention,the darkness in which he walked, as though he felt on one side of him something in process of construction, and on the other, something which was crumbling away. Marius, also warned, and, in accordance with the deep law of God, by that same Mother Nature, did all he could to keep out of sight of "the father." Nevertheless, it came to pass that Jean Valjean sometimes espied him. Marius' manners were no longer in the least natural. He exhibited ambiguous prudence and awkward daring. He no longer came quite close to them as formerly. He seated himself at a distance and pretended to be reading;why did he pretend that? Formerly he had come in his old coat, now he wore his new one every day; Jean Valjean was not sure that he did not have his hair curled, his eyes were very queer, he wore gloves; in short, Jean Valjean cordially detested this young man.
Cosette allowed nothing to be divined. Without knowing just what was the matter with her she was convinced that there was something in it, and that it must be concealed.
There was a coincidence between the taste for the toilet which had recently come to Cosette, and the habit of new clothes developed by that stranger which was very repugnant to Jean Valjean. It might be accidental, no doubt, certainly, but it was a menacing accident.
He never opened his mouth to Cosette about this stranger. One day, however, he could not refrain from so doing, and, with that vague despair which suddenly casts the lead into the depths of its despair, he said to her: "What a very pedantic air that young man has!"
Cosette, but a year before only an indifferent little girl, would have replied: "Why, no, he is charming." Ten years later, with the love of Marius in her heart, she would have answered: "A pedant, and insufferable to the sight! You are right!"-- At the moment in life and the heart which she had then attained, she contented herself with replying, with supreme calmness: "That young man!"
As though she now beheld him for the first time in her life.
"How stupid I am!" thought Jean Valjean. "She had not noticed him. It is I who have pointed him out to her."
Oh, simplicity of the old! oh, the depth of children!
It is one of the laws of those fresh years of suffering and trouble, of those vivacious conflicts between a first love and the first obstacles, that the young girl does not allow herself to be caught in any trap whatever, and that the young man falls into every one. Jean Valjean had instituted an undeclared war against Marius, which Marius, with the sublime stupidity of his passion and his age, did not divine. Jean Valjean laid a host of ambushes for him; he changed his hour, he changed his bench, he forgot his handkerchief, he came alone to the Luxembourg; Marius dashed headlong into all these snares; and to all the interrogation marks planted by Jean Valjean in his pathway, he ingenuously answered "yes." But Cosette remained immured in her apparent unconcern and in her imperturbable tranquillity, so that Jean Valjean arrived at the following conclusion: "That ninny is madly in love with Cosette, but Cosette does not even know that he exists."
None the less did he bear in his heart a mournful tremor. The minute when Cosette would love might strike at any moment. Does not everything begin with indifference?
Only once did Cosette make a mistake and alarm him. He rose from his seat to depart, after a stay of three hours, and she said: "What, already?"
Jean Valjean had not discontinued his trips to the Luxembourg, as he did not wish to do anything out of the way, and as, above all things, he feared to arouse Cosette; but during the hours which were so sweet to the lovers, while Cosette was sending her smile to the intoxicated Marius, who perceived nothing else now, and who now saw nothing in all the world but an adored and radiant face, Jean Valjean was fixing on Marius flashing and terrible eyes. He, who had finally come to believe himself incapable of a malevolent feeling, experienced moments when Marius was present, in which he thought he was becoming savage and ferocious once more, and he felt the old depths of his soul, which had formerly contained so much wrath, opening once more and rising up against that young man. It almost seemed to him that unknown craters were forming in his bosom.
What! he was there, that creature! What was he there for? He came creeping about, smelling out, examining, trying! He came, saying: "Hey! Why not?" He came to prowl about his, Jean Valjean's, life! to prowl about his happiness, with the purpose of seizing it and bearing it away!
Jean Valjean added: "Yes, that's it! What is he in search of? An adventure! What does he want? A love affair! A love affair! And I? What! I have been first, the most wretched of men, and then the most unhappy, and I have traversed sixty years of life on my knees, I have suffered everything that man can suffer, I have grown old without having been young, I have lived without a family, without relatives, without friends, without life, without children, I have left my blood on every stone, on every bramble, on every mile-post, along every wall, I have been gentle, though others have been hard to me, and kind, although others have been malicious, I have become an honest man once more, in spite of everything, I have repented of the evil that I have done and have forgiven the evil that has been done to me, and at the moment when I receive my recompense, at the moment when it is all over, at the moment when I am just touching the goal, at the moment when I have what I desire, it is well, it is good, I have paid, I have earned it, all this is to take flight, all this will vanish, and I shall lose Cosette, and I shall lose my life, my joy, my soul, because it has pleased a great booby to come and lounge at the Luxembourg."
Then his eyes were filled with a sad and extraordinary gleam.
It was no longer a man gazing at a man; it was no longer an enemy surveying an enemy. It was a dog scanning a thief.
The reader knows the rest. Marius pursued his senseless course. One day he followed Cosette to the Rue de l'Ouest. Another day he spoke to the porter. The porter, on his side, spoke, and said to Jean Valjean: "Monsieur, who is that curious young man who is asking for you?" On the morrow Jean Valjean bestowed on Marius that glance which Marius at last perceived. A week later, Jean Valjean had taken his departure. He swore to himself that he would never again set foot either in the Luxembourg or in the Rue de l'Ouest. He returned to the Rue Plumet.
Cosette did not complain, she said nothing, she asked no questions, she did not seek to learn his reasons; she had already reached the point where she was afraid of being divined, and of betraying herself. Jean Valjean had no experience of these miseries, the only miseries which are charming and the only ones with which he was not acquainted; the consequence was that he did not understand the grave significance of Cosette's silence.
He merely noticed that she had grown sad, and he grew gloomy. On his side and on hers, inexperience had joined issue.
Once he made a trial. He asked Cosette:--
"Would you like to come to the Luxembourg?"
A ray illuminated Cosette's pale face.
"Yes," said she.
They went thither. Three months had elapsed. Marius no longer went there. Marius was not there.
On the following day, Jean Valjean asked Cosette again:--
"Would you like to come to the Luxembourg?"
She replied, sadly and gently:--
"No."
Jean Valjean was hurt by this sadness, and heart-broken at this gentleness.
What was going on in that mind which was so young and yet already so impenetrable? What was on its way there within? What was taking place in Cosette's soul? Sometimes, instead of going to bed, Jean Valjean remained seated on his pallet, with his head in his hands, and he passed whole nights asking himself: "What has Cosette in her mind?" and in thinking of the things that she might be thinking about.
Oh! at such moments, what mournful glances did he cast towards that cloister, that chaste peak, that abode of angels, that inaccessible glacier of virtue! How he contemplated, with despairing ecstasy, that convent garden, full of ignored flowers and cloistered virgins, where all perfumes and all souls mount straight to heaven! How he adored that Eden forever closed against him, whence he had voluntarily and madly emerged! How he regretted his abnegation and his folly in having brought Cosette back into the world, poor hero of sacrifice, seized and hurled to the earth by his very self-devotion! How he said to himself, "What have I done?"
However, nothing of all this was perceptible to Cosette. No ill-temper, no harshness. His face was always serene and kind. Jean Valjean's manners were more tender and more paternal than ever. If anything could have betrayed his lack of joy, it was his increased suavity.
On her side, Cosette languished. She suffered from the absence of Marius as she had rejoiced in his presence, peculiarly, without exactly being conscious of it. When Jean Valjean ceased to take her on their customary strolls, a feminine instinct murmured confusedly, at the bottom of her heart, that she must not seem to set store on the Luxembourg garden, and that if this proved to be a matter of indifference to her, her father would take her thither once more. But days, weeks, months, elapsed. Jean Valjean had tacitly accepted Cosette's tacit consent. She regretted it. It was too late. So Marius had disappeared; all was over. The day on which she returned to the Luxembourg, Marius was no longer there. What was to be done? Should she ever find him again? She felt an anguish at her heart, which nothing relieved, and which augmented every day; she nolonger knew whether it was winter or summer, whether it was raining or shining, whether the birds were singing, whether it was the season for dahlias or daisies, whether the Luxembourg was more charming than the Tuileries, whether the linen which the laundress brought home was starched too much or not enough, whether Toussaint had
done "her marketing" well or ill; and she remained dejected, absorbed, attentive to but a single thought, her eyes vague and staring as when one gazes by night at a black and fathomless spot where an apparition has vanished.
However, she did not allow Jean Valjean to perceive anything of this, except her pallor.
She still wore her sweet face for him.
This pallor sufficed but too thoroughly to trouble Jean Valjean. Sometimes he asked her:--
"What is the matter with you?"
She replied: "There is nothing the matter with me."
And after a silence, when she divined that he was sad also, she would add:--
"And you, father--is there anything wrong with you?"
"With me? Nothing," said he.
These two beings who had loved each other so exclusively, and with so touching an affection, and who had lived so long for each other now suffered side by side, each on the other's account; without acknowledging it to each other, without anger towards each other, and with a smile.
人在任何情况下都有预感。高寿和永生的母亲棗大自然棗把马吕斯的活动暗示给了冉阿让。冉阿让在他思想最深处发抖。冉阿让什么也没看见，什么也不知道，但却正以固执的注意力在探索他身边的秘密，仿佛他一方面已觉察到有些什么东西在形成，另一方面又有些什么在崩溃。马吕斯也得到了这同一个大自然母亲的暗示棗这是慈悲上帝的深奥法则，他竭尽全力要避开“父亲”的注意。但是有时候，冉阿让仍识破了他。马吕斯的举动极不自然。他有一些鬼头鬼脑的谨慎态度，也有一些笨头笨脑的大胆行为。他不再象从前那样走近他们身边，他老坐在远处发怔，他老捧着一本书，假装阅读，他在为谁装假呢？从前，他穿着旧衣服出来，现在他天天穿上新衣，不清楚他是否烫过头发，他那双眼睛的神气也确是古怪，他戴手套，总而言之，冉阿让真的从心里讨厌这个年轻人。
珂赛特丝毫不动声色。她虽然不能正确认识自己的心事，但感到这是件大事，应当把它隐瞒起来。
在珂赛特方面，出现了爱打扮的癖好，在这陌生人方面，有了穿新衣的习惯，冉阿让对这两者之间的平行关系感到很不痛快。这也许……想必……肯定是一种偶然的巧合，但是一种带威胁性的偶合。
他从不开口和珂赛特谈那个阳生人。可是，有一天，他耐不住了，苦恼万分，放不下心，想立即试探一下这倒霉的事究竟发展到了什么程度，他对她说“你看那个青年的那股书呆子味儿！”
在一年以前，当珂赛特还是个漠不关心的小姑娘时，她也许会回答：“不，他很讨人喜欢。”十年以后，心里怀着对马吕斯的爱，她也许会回答：“书呆子气，真叫人受不了！您说得对！”可是在当时的生活和感情的支配下，她只若无其事地回答了一句：
“那个年轻人！”
好象她还是生平第一次看到他。
“我真傻！”冉阿让想道，“她并没有注意他。倒是我先把他指给她看了。”
呵，老人的天真！孩子的老成！
初尝恋爱苦恼的年轻人在设法排除最初困难的激烈斗争中，这是一条规律：女子绝不上当，男子有当必上。冉阿让已开始对马吕斯进行暗斗，而马吕斯，受着那种*感情的支配和年龄的影响，傻透了，一点也见不到。冉阿让为他设下一连串圈套，他改时间，换坐位，掉手帕，独自来逛卢森堡公园，马吕斯却低着脑袋钻进了每一个圈套，冉阿让在他的路上安插许多问号，他都天真烂漫地一一回答说：“是的。”同时，珂赛特却深深隐藏在那种事不关己、泰然自若的外表下面，使冉阿让从中得出这样的结论：那傻小子把珂赛特爱到发疯，珂赛特却不知道有这回事，也不知道有这个人。
他并不因此就能减轻他心中痛苦的震颤。珂赛特爱的时刻随时都可以到来。开始时不也总是漠不关心的吗？
只有一次，珂赛特失误了，使他大吃一惊。在那板凳上待了三个钟头以后他立起来要走，她说：“怎么，就要走？”
冉阿让仍在公园里继续散步，不愿显得异样，尤其怕让珂赛特觉察出来，珂赛特朝着心花怒放的马吕斯不时微笑，马吕斯除此以外什么也瞧不见了，他现在在这世上所能见到的，只有一张容光焕发、他所倾倒的脸，两个情人正感到此时此刻无比美好，冉阿让却狠狠地横着一双火星直冒的眼睛钉在马吕斯的脸上。他自以为不至于再怀恶念了，但有时看见马吕斯，却不禁感到自己又有了那种野蛮粗暴的心情，在他当年充满仇恨的灵魂的深渊里，旧时的怒火又在重新崩裂的缺口里燃烧起来。他几乎觉得在他心里，一些不曾有过的火山口正在形成。
怎么！会有这么一个人，在这儿！他来干什么？他来转、嗅、研究、试探！他来说：“哼！有什么不可以！”他到他冉阿让生命的周围来打贼主意！到他幸福的周围来打贼主意！他想夺取它，据为己有！
冉阿让还说：“对，没错！他来找什么？找野食！他要什么？要个小娘们儿！那么，我呢！怎么！起先我是人中最倒霉的，随后又是一个最苦恼的。为生活，我用膝头爬了六十年，我受尽了人能受的一切痛苦，我不曾有过青春便已老了，我一辈子没有家，没有父母，没有朋友，没有女人，没有孩子，我把我的血洒在所有的石头上，所有的荆棘上，所有的路碑上，所有的墙边，我向对我刻薄的人低声下气，向虐待我的人讨好，我不顾一切，还是去改邪归正，我为自己所作的恶忏悔，也原谅别人对我所作的恶，而正当我快要得到好报，正当那一切都已结束，正当我快达到目的，正当我快要实现我的心愿时，好，好得很，我付出了代价，我收到了果实，但一切又要完蛋，一切又要落空，我还要丢掉珂赛特，丢掉我的生命、我的欢乐、我的灵魂，因为这使一个到卢森堡公园来游荡的大*感到有乐趣！”
这时，他的眼里充满了异常阴沉的煞气。那已不是一个看着人的人，那已不是个看着仇人的人，而是一条看着一个贼的看家狗。
其余的经过，我们都知道。马吕斯一直是没头没脑的。一次，他跟着珂赛特到了西街。另一次，他找门房谈过话，那门房又把这话告诉了冉阿让，并且问他说：“那个找您的爱管闲事的后生是个什么人？”第二天，冉阿让对马吕斯盯了那么一眼，那是马吕斯感到了的。一星期过后，冉阿让搬走了。他发誓不再去卢森堡公园，也不再去西街。他回到了卜吕梅街。
珂赛特没有表示异议，她没有吭一声气，没有问一句话，没设法去探听为的什么，她当时已到那种怕人猜破、走露消息的阶段。冉阿让对这些伤脑筋的事一点经验也没有，这恰巧是最动人的事，而他又恰巧一窍不通，因此他完全不能识破珂赛特闷声不响的严重意义。可是他已察觉到她变得抑郁了，而他，变阴沉了。双方都没有经验，构成了相持的僵局。
一天，他进行一次试探。他问珂赛特：
“你想去卢森堡公园走走吗？”
珂赛特苍白的脸上顿时喜气洋洋。
“想。”她说。
他们去了。那是过了三个月以后的事。马吕斯已经不去那里了。马吕斯不在。
第二天，冉阿让又问珂赛特：
“你想去卢森堡公园走走吗？”
“不想。”
冉阿让见她发愁就有气，见她柔顺就懊恼。
这小脑袋里究竟发生了什么事，年纪这么小，便已这样猜不透？那里正在策划着什么？珂赛特的灵魂出了什么事？有时，冉阿让不睡，常常整夜坐在破床边，双手捧着脑袋想：“珂赛特的思想里有些什么事？”他想到了一些她可能想到的东西。
呵！在这种时刻，他多少次睁着悲痛的眼睛，回头去望那修院，那个洁白的山峰，那个天使们的园地，那个高不可攀的美德的冰山！他怀着失望的爱慕心情瞻望修院，那生满了不足为外人道的花卉，关满了与世隔绝的处女，所有的香气和所有的灵魂都能一齐直上天国！他多么崇拜他当初一时迷了心窍自愿脱离的伊甸园，如今误入歧路，大门永不会再为他开放了！他多么悔恨自己当日竟那么克己，那么糊涂，要把珂赛特带回尘世。他这个为人牺牲的可怜的英雄，由于自己一片忠忱，竟至作茧自缚，自投苦海！正如他对他自己所说的：“我是怎么搞的？”
尽管如此，这一切他都不流露出来让珂赛特知道。既没有急躁的表现，也从不粗声大气，而总是那副宁静温和的面貌。冉阿让的态度比以往任何时候都更象慈父，更加仁爱。如果有什么东西可以使人察觉他不及从前那么快乐的话，那就是他更加和颜悦色了。
在珂赛特那一面，她终日郁郁不乐。她为马吕斯不在身旁而愁苦，正如当日因他常在眼前而喜悦，她万般苦闷，却不知道究竟是怎么回事。当冉阿让不再象往常那样带她去散步时，一种女性的本能便从她心底对她隐隐暗示：她不应现出老想念卢森堡公园的样子，如果她装得无所谓，她父亲便会再带她去的。但是，多少天、多少星期、多少个月接连过去了，冉阿让一声不响地接受了珂赛特一声不响的同意。她后悔起来了。已经太迟了。她回到卢森堡公园去的那天，马吕斯不在。马吕斯丢了，全完了，怎么办？她还能指望和他重相见吗？她感到自己的心揪作一团，无法排解，并且一天比一天更甚，她已不知是冬是夏，是睛是雨，鸟雀是否歌唱，是大丽花的季节还是菊花的时节，卢森堡公园是否比杜伊勒里宫更可爱，洗衣妇送回的衣服是否浆得太厚，杜桑买的东西是否合适，她整天垂头丧气，发呆出神，心里只有一个念头，眼睛朝前看而一无所见，正如夜里看着鬼魂刚刚隐没的黑暗深处。
此外，除了她那憔悴面容外她也不让冉阿让发现什么。她对他仍是亲亲热热的。
她的憔悴太使冉阿让痛心了。他有时问她：
“你怎么了？”
她回答说：
“我不怎么呀。”
沉寂了一会儿，她觉得他也同样闷闷不乐，便问道：
“您呢，爹，您有什么事吗？”
“我？没有什么。”他回答。
这两个人，多年以来，彼此都极亲爱，相依为命，诚笃感人，现在却面对面地各自隐忍，都为对方苦恼。大家避而不谈心里的话，也没有抱怨的心，而还总是微笑着。
