Three o'clock in the morning had just struck, and he had been walking thus for five hours, almost uninterruptedly, when he at length allowed himself to drop into his chair.
There he fell asleep and had a dream.
This dream, like the majority of dreams, bore no relation to the situation, except by its painful and heart-rending character, but it made an impression on him. This nightmare struck him so forcibly that he wrote it down later on. It is one of the papers in his own handwriting which he has bequeathed to us. We think that we have here reproduced the thing in strict accordance with the text.
Of whatever nature this dream may be, the history of this night would be incomplete if we were to omit it: it is the gloomy adventure of an ailing soul.
Here it is. On the envelope we find this line inscribed, "The Dream I had that Night."
"I was in a plain; a vast, gloomy plain, where there was no grass. It did not seem to me to be daylight nor yet night.
"I was walking with my brother, the brother of my childish years, the brother of whom, I must say, I never think, and whom I now hardly remember.
"We were conversing and we met some passers-by. We were talking of a neighbor of ours in former days, who had always worked with her window open from the time when she came to live on the street. As we talked we felt cold because of that open window.
"There were no trees in the plain. We saw a man passing close to us. He was entirely nude, of the hue of ashes, and mounted on a horse which was earth color. The man had no hair; we could see his skull and the veins on it. In his hand he held a switch which was as supple as a vine-shoot and as heavy as iron. This horseman passed and said nothing to us.
"My brother said to me, `Let us take to the hollow road.'
"There existed a hollow way wherein one saw neither a single shrub nor a spear of moss. Everything was dirt-colored, even the sky. After proceeding a few paces, I received no reply when I spoke: I perceived that my brother was no longer with me.
"I entered a village which I espied. I reflected that it must be Romainville. (Why Romainville?)[5]
[5] This parenthesis is due to Jean Valjean.
"The first street that I entered was deserted. I entered a second street. Behind the angle formed by the two streets, a man was standing erect against the wall. I said to this Man:--
"`What country is this? Where am I?' The man made no reply. I saw the door of a house open, and I entered.
"The first chamber was deserted. I entered the second. Behind the door of this chamber a man was standing erect against the wall. I inquired of this man, `Whose house is this? Where am I?' The man replied not.
"The house had a garden. I quitted the house and entered the garden. The garden was deserted. Behind the first tree I found a man standing upright. I said to this man, `What garden is this? Where am I?' The man did not answer.
"I strolled into the village, and perceived that it was a town. All the streets were deserted, all the doors were open. Not a single living being was passing in the streets, walking through the chambers or strolling in the gardens. But behind each angle of the walls, behind each door, behind each tree, stood a silent man. Only one was to be seen at a time. These men watched me pass.
"I left the town and began to ramble about the fields.
"After the lapse of some time I turned back and saw a great crowd coming up behind me. I recognized all the men whom I had seen in that town. They had strange heads. They did not seem to be in a hurry, yet they walked faster than I did. They made no noise as they walked. In an instant this crowd had overtaken and surrounded me. The faces of these men were earthen in hue.
"Then the first one whom I had seen and questioned on entering the town said to me:--
"`Whither are you going! Do you not know that you have been dead this long time?'
"I opened my mouth to reply, and I perceived that there was no one near me."
He woke. He was icy cold. A wind which was chill like the breeze of dawn was rattling the leaves of the window, which had been left open on their hinges. The fire was out. The candle was nearing its end. It was still black night.
He rose, he went to the window. There were no stars in the sky even yet.
From his window the yard of the house and the street were visible. A sharp, harsh noise, which made him drop his eyes, resounded from the earth.
Below him he perceived two red stars, whose rays lengthened and shortened in a singular manner through the darkness.
As his thoughts were still half immersed in the mists of sleep, "Hold!" said he, "there are no stars in the sky. They are on earth now."
But this confusion vanished; a second sound similar to the first roused him thoroughly; he looked and recognized the fact that these two stars were the lanterns of a carriage. By the light which they cast he was able to distinguish the form of this vehicle. It was a tilbury harnessed to a small white horse. The noise which he had heard was the trampling of the horse's hoofs on the pavement.
"What vehicle is this?" he said to himself. "Who is coming here so early in the morning?"
At that moment there came a light tap on the door of his chamber.
He shuddered from head to foot, and cried in a terrible voice:--
"Who is there?"
Some one said:--
"I, Monsieur le Maire."
He recognized the voice of the old woman who was his portress.
"Well!" he replied, "what is it?"
"Monsieur le Maire, it is just five o'clock in the morning."
"What is that to me?"
"The cabriolet is here, Monsieur le Maire."
"What cabriolet?"
"The tilbury."
"What tilbury?"
"Did not Monsieur le Maire order a tilbury?"
"No," said he.
"The coachman says that he has come for Monsieur le Maire."
"What coachman?"
"M. Scaufflaire's coachman."
"M. Scaufflaire?"
That name sent a shudder over him, as though a flash of lightning had passed in front of his face.
"Ah! yes," he resumed; "M. Scaufflaire!"
If the old woman could have seen him at that moment, she would have been frightened.
A tolerably long silence ensued. He examined the flame of the candle with a stupid air, and from around the wick he took some of the burning wax, which he rolled between his fingers. The old woman waited for him. She even ventured to uplift her voice once more:--
"What am I to say, Monsieur le Maire?"
"Say that it is well, and that I am coming down."
早晨三点刚刚敲过，他那样几乎不停地走来走去，已有五个钟头了。后来，他倒在椅子上。
他在那上面睡着了，还做了一个梦。
那梦，和大多数的梦一样，只是和一些惨痛莫名的情况有关连，但是他仍然受了感动。那场恶梦狠狠地打击了他，使他后来把它记了下来。这是他亲笔写好留下来的一张纸。我们认为应在此把这一内容依照原文录下。
无论那个梦是什么，假使我们略过不提，那一夜的经过便不完全。那是一个害着心病的人的一段辛酸的故事。
下面便是。在那信封上有这样一行字：“我在那晚作的梦。”
我到了田野间。那是一片荒凉辽阔、寸草不生的田野。我既不觉得那是白天，也不觉得是黑夜。
我和我的哥，我童年时的哥，一同散步；这个哥，我应当说，是我从来没有想起，而且几乎忘了的。
我们在闲谈，又碰见许多人走过。我们谈到从前的一个女邻居，这个女邻居，自从她住在那条街上，便时常开着窗子工作。我们谈着谈着，竟因那扇开着的窗子而觉得冷起来了。
田野间没有树。
我们看见一个人在我们身边走过。那人赤身露体，浑身灰色，骑着一匹土色的马。那人没有头发；我们看见他的秃顶和顶上的血管。他手里拿着一条鞭子，象葡萄藤那样软，又象铁那么重。那骑士走了过去，一句话也没有和我们说。
我哥向我说：“我们从那条凹下去的路走吧。”那里有一条凹下去的路，路上没有一根荆棘，也没有一丝青苔。一切全是土色的，连天也一样。走了几步以后，我说话，却没有人应我，我发现我的哥已不和我在一道了。
我望见一个村子，便走进去。我想那也许是罗曼维尔。（为什么是罗曼维尔呢？）①
①括弧是冉阿让加的。棗原注。
我走进的第一条街，没有人，我又走进第二条街。在转角的地方，有个人靠墙立着。我向那人说：“这是什么地方？我到了哪里？”
那人不回答。我看见一扇开着的墙门，我便走进去。第一间屋子是空的。我走进第二间。在那扇门的后面，有个人靠墙立着。我问那人：“这房子是谁的？我是在什么地方？”那人不回答。那房子里有一个园子。
我走出房子，走进园子。园子是荒凉的。在第一株树的后面，我看见一个人立着。我向那人说：“这是什么园子？我在什么地方？”那人不回答。
我信步在那村子里走着，我发现那是个城。所有的街道都是荒凉的，所有的门都是开着的。没有一个人在街上经过，也没有人在房里走或是在园里散步。但在每一个墙角上、每扇门后面、每株树的背后，都立着一个不开口的人。每次总只有一个，那些人都望着我走过去。
我出了城，在田里走。
过了一会，我回转头，看见一大群人跟在我后面走来。我认出了那些人，全是我在那城里看见过的。他们的相貌是奇形怪状的。他们好象并不急于赶路，但他们都比我走得快。他们走的时候，一点声音也没有。一下子，那群人追上了我，把我围了起来。那些人的面色都是土色的。
于是，我在进城时最初见到并向他问过话的那个人向我说：
“您往哪儿去？难道您不知道您早就死了吗？”
我张开嘴，正要答话，但是我看见四周绝没有一个人。
他醒过来，冻僵了。一阵和晨风一样冷的风把窗板吹得在开着的窗门臼里直转。火已经灭了。蜡烛也快点完了。仍旧是黑夜。
他立起来，向着窗子走去，天上始终没有星。
从他的窗口，可以望见那所房子的天井和街道。地上忽然发出一种干脆而结实的响声，他便朝下望。
他看见在他下面有两颗红星，它们的光在黑影里忽展忽缩，形状奇怪。
由于他的思想仍半沉在梦境里，他在想：“奇怪！天上没有星，它们现在到地上来了。”
这时，他才从梦中渐渐清醒过来，一声和第一次相同的响声把他完全惊醒了，他注意看，这才看出那两颗星原来是一辆车子上的挂灯。从那两盏挂灯射出的光里，他可以看出那辆车子的形状。那是一辆小车，驾着一匹白马。他先头听见的便是马蹄踏地的响声。
“这是什么车子？”他向自己说，“谁这样一清早就来了？”
这时，有个人在他房门上轻轻敲了一下。
他从头到脚打了一个寒噤，怪声叫道：
“谁呀？”
有个人回答：
“是我，市长先生。”
他听出那老妇人棗他的门房的嗓子。
“什么事？”他又问。
“市长先生，快早晨五点了。”
“这告诉我干什么？”
“市长先生，车子来了。”
“什么车子？”
“小车。”
“什么小车？”
“难道市长先生没有要过一辆小车吗？”
“没有。”他说。
“那车夫说他是来找市长先生的。”
“哪个车夫？”
“斯戈弗莱尔先生的车夫。”
“斯戈弗莱尔先生？”
那个名字使他大吃一惊，好象有道电光在他的面前闪过。
“呀！对了！”他回答说，“斯戈弗莱尔先生。”
当时那老妇人如果看见了他，她一定会被他吓坏的。
他一声不响，停了好一阵。他呆呆地望着那支蜡烛的火焰，又从烛心旁边取出一点火热的蜡，在指间抟着。那老妇人等了一阵，才壮起胆子，高声问道：
“市长先生，我应当怎样回复呢？”
“您说好的，我就下来。”