Three hundred paces further on, he arrived at a point where the street forked. It separated into two streets, which ran in a slanting line, one to the right, and the other to the left.
Jean Valjean had before him what resembled the two branches of a Y. Which should he choose? He did not hesitate, but took the one on the right.
Why?
Because that to the left ran towards a suburb, that is to say, towards inhabited regions, and the right branch towards the open country, that is to say, towards deserted regions.
However, they no longer walked very fast. Cosette's pace retarded Jean Valjean's.
He took her up and carried her again. Cosette laid her head on the shoulder of the good man and said not a word.
He turned round from time to time and looked behind him. He took care to keep always on the dark side of the street. The street was straight in his rear. The first two or three times that he turned round he saw nothing; the silence was profound, and he continued his march somewhat reassured. All at once, on turning round, he thought he perceived in the portion of the street which he had just passed through, far off in the obscurity, something which was moving.
He rushed forward precipitately rather than walked, hoping to find some side-street, to make his escape through it, and thus to break his scent once more.
He arrived at a wall.
This wall, however, did not absolutely prevent further progress; it was a wall which bordered a transverse street, in which the one he had taken ended.
Here again, he was obliged to come to a decision; should he go to the right or to the left.
He glanced to the right. The fragmentary lane was prolonged between buildings which were either sheds or barns, then ended at a blind alley. The extremity of the cul-de-sac was distinctly visible,-- a lofty white wall.
He glanced to the left. On that side the lane was open, and about two hundred paces further on, ran into a street of which it was the affluent. On that side lay safety.
At the moment when Jean Valjean was meditating a turn to the left, in an effort to reach the street which he saw at the end of the lane, he perceived a sort of motionless, black statue at the corner of the lane and the street towards which he was on the point of directing his steps.
It was some one, a man, who had evidently just been posted there, and who was barring the passage and waiting.
Jean Valjean recoiled.
The point of Paris where Jean Valjean found himself, situated between the Faubourg Saint-Antoine and la Rapee, is one of those which recent improvements have transformed from top to bottom,-- resulting in disfigurement according to some, and in a transfiguration according to others. The market-gardens, the timber-yards, and the old buildings have been effaced. To-day, there are brand-new, wide streets, arenas, circuses, hippodromes, railway stations, and a *, Mazas, there; progress, as the reader sees, with its antidote.
Half a century ago, in that ordinary, popular tongue, which is all compounded of traditions, which persists in calling the Institut les Quatre-Nations, and the Opera-Comique Feydeau, the precise spot whither Jean Valjean had arrived was called le Petit Picpus. The Porte Saint-Jacques, the Porte Paris, the Barriere des Sergents, the Porcherons, la Galiote, les Celestins, les Capucins, le Mail, la Bourbe, l'Arbre de Cracovie, la Petite-Pologne--these are the names of old Paris which survive amid the new. The memory of the populace hovers over these relics of the past.
Le Petit-Picpus, which, moreover, hardly ever had any existence, and never was more than the outline of a quarter, had nearly the monkish aspect of a Spanish town. The roads were not much paved; the streets were not much built up. With the exception of the two or three streets, of which we shall presently speak, all was wall and solitude there. Not a shop, not a vehicle, hardly a candle lighted here and there in the windows; all lights extinguished after ten o'clock. Gardens, convents, timber-yards, marshes; occasional lowly dwellings and great walls as high as the houses.
Such was this quarter in the last century. The Revolution snubbed it soundly. The republican government demolished and cut through it. Rubbish shoots were established there. Thirty years ago, this quarter was disappearing under the erasing process of new buildings. To-day, it has been utterly blotted out. The Petit-Picpus, of which no existing plan has preserved a trace, is indicated with sufficient clearness in the plan of 1727, published at Paris by Denis Thierry, Rue Saint-Jacques, opposite the Rue du Platre; and at Lyons, by Jean Girin, Rue Merciere, at the sign of Prudence. Petit-Picpus had, as we have just mentioned, a Y of streets, formed by the Rue du Chemin-Vert-Saint-Antoine, which spread out in two branches, taking on the left the name of Little Picpus Street, and on the right the name of the Rue Polonceau. The two limbs of the Y were connected at the apex as by a bar; this bar was called Rue Droit-Mur. The Rue Polonceau ended there; Rue Petit-Picpus passed on, and ascended towards the Lenoir market. A person coming from the Seine reached the extremity of the Rue Polonceau, and had on his right the Rue Droit-Mur, turning abruptly at a right angle, in front of him the wall of that street, and on his right a truncated prolongation of the Rue Droit-Mur, which had no issue and was called the Cul-de-Sac Genrot.
It was here that Jean Valjean stood.
As we have just said, on catching sight of that black silhouette standing on guard at the angle of the Rue Droit-Mur and the Rue Petit-Picpus, he recoiled. There could be no doubt of it. That phantom was lying in wait for him.
What was he to do?
The time for retreating was passed. That which he had perceived in movement an instant before, in the distant darkness, was Javert and his squad without a doubt. Javert was probably already at the commencement of the street at whose end Jean Valjean stood. Javert, to all appearances, was acquainted with this little labyrinth, and had taken his precautions by sending one of his men to guard the exit. These surmises, which so closely resembled proofs, whirled suddenly, like a handful of dust caught up by an unexpected gust of wind, through Jean Valjean's mournful brain. He examined the Cul-de-Sac Genrot; there he was cut off. He examined the Rue Petit-Picpus; there stood a sentinel. He saw that black form standing out in relief against the white pavement, illuminated by the moon; to advance was to fall into this man's hands; to retreat was to fling himself into Javert's arms. Jean Valjean felt himself caught, as in a net, which was slowly contracting; he gazed heavenward in despair.
走了三百步后他到了一个岔路口。街道在这里分作两条，一条斜向左边，一条向右。摆在冉阿让面前的仿佛是个Y字的两股叉。选哪一股好呢？
他毫不踌躇，向右走。
为什么？
因为左边去城郊，就是说，去有人住的地方；右边去乡间，就是说，去荒野的地方。
可是他已不象先头那样走得飞快了。珂赛特的脚步拖住了冉阿让的脚步。
他又抱起她来。珂赛特把头靠在老人肩上，一声也不响。
他不时回头望望。他一直留心靠着街边阴暗的一面。他背后的街是直的。他回头看了两三次，什么也没有看见，什么声音全没有，他继续往前走，心里稍微宽了些。忽然，他往后望时，又仿佛看见在他刚刚走过的那段街上，在远处，黑影里，有东西在动。
他现在不是走而是往前奔了，一心只想能有一条侧巷，从那儿逃走，再次脱险。
他撞见一堵墙。
那墙并不挡住去路，冉阿让现在所走的这条街，通到一条横巷，那是横巷旁边的围墙。
到了那里，又得打主意，朝右走，或是朝左。
他向右边望去。巷子两旁有一些敞棚和仓库之类的建筑物，它象一条盲肠似的伸展出去，无路可通。可以清晰地望见巷底，有一堵高粉墙。
他向左望。这边的胡同是通的，而且，在相隔二百来步的地方，便接上另一条街。这一边才是生路。
冉阿让正要转向左边，打算逃到他隐约看到的巷底的那条街上去，他忽然发现在巷口和他要去的那条街相接的拐角上，有个黑魆魆的人形，立着不动。
那确是一个人，明明是刚才派来守在巷口挡住去路的。
冉阿让赶忙往后退。
他当时所在地处于圣安东尼郊区和拉白区之间，巴黎的这一带也是被新建工程彻底改变了的，这种改变，有些人称为丑化，也有些人称为改观。园圃、工场、旧建筑物全取消了。今天在这一带是全新的大街、竞技场、马戏场、跑马场、火车起点站、一所名为马扎斯的*，足见进步不离刑罚。
冉阿让当时到达的地方在半个世纪以前，叫做小比克布斯，这名称完全出自传统的民族常用语，正如这种常用语一定要把学院称为“四国”，喜歌剧院称为“费多”一样。圣雅克门、巴黎门、中士便门、波舍隆、加利奥特、则肋斯定、嘉布遣、玛依、布尔白、克拉科夫树、小波兰、小比克布斯，这些全是旧巴黎替新巴黎遗留下来的名称。对这些残存的事物人民一直念念不忘。
小比克布斯从来就是一个区的雏型，存在的年代也不长，它差不多有着西班牙城市那种古朴的外貌。路上多半没有铺石块，街上多半没有盖房屋。除了我们即将谈到的两三条街道外，四处全是墙和旷野。没有一家店铺，没有一辆车子，只偶然有点烛光从几处窗口透出来，十点过后，所有的灯火全灭了。全是些园圃、修院、工场、洼地，有几所少见的矮屋以及和房子一样高的墙。
这个区在前一世纪的形象便是这样的。革命曾替它带来不少灾难，共和时期的建设局把它毁坏，洞穿，打窟窿。残砖破瓦，处处堆积。这个区在三十年前已被新建筑所淹没。今天已一笔勾销了。
小比克布斯，在现在的市区图上已毫无影踪，可是位于巴黎圣雅克街上正对着石膏街的德尼·蒂埃里书店和位于里昂普律丹斯广场针线街上的让·吉兰书店在一七二七年印行的市区图上却标志得相当清楚。小比克布斯有我们刚才说过的象Y字形的街道，Y字下半的一竖，是圣安东尼绿径街，它分为左右两支，左支是比克布斯小街，右支是波隆梭街。这Y字的两个尖又好象是由一横连接起来的。这一横叫直壁街。波隆梭街通到直壁街为止，比克布斯小街却穿过直壁街以后，还上坡通到勒努瓦市场。从塞纳河走来的人，走到波隆梭街的尽头，向他左边转个九十度的急弯，便到了直壁街，在他面前的是沿着这条街的墙，在他右边的是直壁街的街尾，不通别处，叫做让洛死胡同。
冉阿让当时正是到了这地方。
正如我们先头所说的，他望见有一个黑影把守在直壁街和比克布斯小街的转角处，便往后退。毫无疑问，他已成了那鬼影窥伺的对象。
怎么办？
已经来不及退回去了。他先头望见的远远地在他背后黑影里移动的，一定就是沙威和他的队伍。沙威很可能是在这条街的口上，冉阿让则是在这条街的尾上。从所有已知迹象方面看，沙威是熟悉这一小块地方复杂的地形的，他已有了准备，派了他手下的一个人去守住了出口。这种猜测，完全符合事实，于是在冉阿让痛苦的头脑里，象一把在急风中飞散的灰沙，把他搅得心慌意乱。他仔细看了看让洛死胡同，这儿，无路可通，又仔细看了看比克布斯小街，这儿，有人把守。他望见那黑魆魆的人影出现在月光雪亮的街口上。朝前走吧，一定落在那个人的手里。向后退吧，又会和沙威撞个满怀。冉阿让感到自己已经陷在一个越收越紧的罗网里了。他怀着失望的心情望着天空。
