A Night Behind Which There Is Day — Les Misérables

Jean Valjean turned round at the knock. Come in, he said feebly. The door opened. Cosette and Marius made their appearance. Cosette rushed into the room. Marius remained on the threshold. Cosette, said Jean Valjean, and he sat erect, his arms outstretched and trembling, an immense joy in his eyes. Father, said she. Cosette, she, you, Madame, it is thou. Thou dost pardon me then. Marius took a step forward and murmured, My father. And you also, you pardon me. Thanks. Cosette seated herself on the old man's knees and kissed his brow. How stupid people are. I thought that I should never see her again. At the very moment when you were mounting the stairs I was saying all is over. One reckons without the good God. How wicked of you to have left us. Stay, Marius, feel how cold his hand is.

Marius burst forth. He has come to that. He asks my forgiveness. And do you know what he has done for me. He has saved my life. He has given you to me. And after that he has sacrificed himself. Behold the man. A noise at the door. It was the doctor. Good-day, and farewell, doctor. Here are my poor children. The doctor replied to Marius's glance. Bending to his ear he added, Too late. Jean Valjean surveyed them serenely, almost without ceasing to gaze at Cosette. It is nothing to die. It is dreadful not to live. All at once he rose, walked to the wall, detached the little copper crucifix, and laid it on the table. Behold the great martyr. Cosette supported his shoulders. Father, do not leave us. Is it possible that we have found you only to lose you again. He rallied. He took a fold of her sleeve and kissed it. He is coming back, cried Marius.

He adjured Marius not to fear: the six hundred thousand francs really belong to Cosette. He bequeathed the two candlesticks on the chimney-piece. They are of silver, but to me they are gold. I do not know whether the person who gave them to me is pleased with me yonder on high. I have done what I could. The portress asked whether he would like a priest. I have had one, he said, and with his finger he seemed to indicate a point above his head. The moment has come to tell thee the name of thy mother. She was called Fantine. Remember that name. Kneel whenever thou utterest it. She suffered much. She loved thee dearly. I die happy. Give me your dear and well-beloved heads, so that I may lay my hands upon them. Cosette and Marius fell on their knees, each beneath one of his hands. Those august hands no longer moved. He had fallen backwards. The light of the candles illuminated him. He was dead. The night was starless and extremely dark. No doubt, in the gloom, some immense angel stood erect with wings outspread, awaiting that soul.