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I am safe； all is over。
I had but one partly open door through which my past might invade my life； and behold that door is walled up forever！ That Javert； who has been annoying me so long； that terrible instinct which seemed to have divined me； which had divined me good God！ and which followed me everywhere； that frightful hunting…dog； always making a point at me； is thrown off the scent； engaged elsewhere； absolutely turned from the trail：
henceforth he is satisfied； he will leave me in peace； he has his Jean Valjean。 Who knows？ it is even probable that he will wish to leave town！ And all this has been brought about without any aid from me； and I count for nothing in it！
Ah！ but where is the misfortune in this？ Upon my honor； people would think； to see me； that some catastrophe had happened to me！
After all； if it does bring harm to some one； that is not my fault in the least：
it is Providence which has done it all； it is because it wishes it so to be； evidently。
Have I the right to disarrange what it has arranged？
What do I ask now？ Why should I meddle？
It does not concern me； what！
I am not satisfied： but what more do I want？
The goal to which I have aspired for so many years； the dream of my nights； the object of my prayers to Heaven；security；I have now attained； it is God who wills it； I can do nothing against the will of God； and why does God will it？ In order that I may continue what I have begun； that I may do good； that I may one day be a grand and encouraging example； that it may be said at last； that a little happiness has been attached to the penance which I have undergone； and to that virtue to which I have returned。
Really； I do not understand why I was afraid； a little while ago； to enter the house of that good cure； and to ask his advice； this is evidently what he would have said to me： It is settled； let things take their course； let the good God do as he likes！〃
Thus did he address himself in the depths of his own conscience； bending over what may be called his own abyss； he rose from his chair； and began to pace the room：
〃e；〃 said he； 〃let us think no more about it； my resolve is taken！〃 but he felt no joy。
Quite the reverse。
One can no more prevent thought from recurring to an idea than one can the sea from returning to the shore：
the sailor calls it the tide； the guilty man calls it remorse； God upheaves the soul as he does the ocean。
After the expiration of a few moments； do what he would； he resumed the gloomy dialogue in which it was he who spoke and he who listened； saying that which he would have preferred to ignore； and listened to that which he would have preferred not to hear； yielding to that mysterious power which said to him：
〃Think！〃 as it said to another condemned man； two thousand years ago； 〃March on！〃
Before proceeding further； and in order to make ourselves fully understood； let us insist upon one necessary observation。
It is certain that people do talk to themselves； there is no living being who has not done it。
It may even be said that the word is never a more magnificent mystery than when it goes from thought to conscience within a man； and when it returns from conscience to thought； it is in this sense only that the words so often employed in this chapter； he said； he exclaimed； must be understood； one speaks to one's self； talks to one's self； exclaims to one's self without breaking the external silence； there is a great tumult； everything about us talks except the mouth。
The realities of the soul are none the less realities because they are not visible and palpable。
So he asked himself where he stood。
He interrogated himself upon that 〃settled resolve。〃
He confessed to himself that all that he had just arranged in his mind was monstrous； that 〃to let things take their course； to let the good God do as he liked；〃 was simply horrible； to allow this error of fate and of men to be carried out； not to hinder it； to lend himself to it through his silence； to do nothing； in short； was to do everything！ that this was hypocritical baseness in the last degree！ that it was a base； cowardly； sneaking； abject； hideous crime！
For the first time in eight years； the wretched man had just tasted the bitter savor of an evil thought and of an evil action。
He spit it out with disgust。
He continued to question himself。
He asked himself severely what he had meant by this； 〃My object is attained！〃
He declared to himself that his life really had an object； but what object？ To conceal his name？
To deceive the police？
Was it for so petty a thing that he had done all that he had done？
Had he not another and a grand object； which was the true oneto save； not his person； but his soul； to bee honest and good once more； to be a just man？ Was it not that above all； that alone； which he had always desired； which the Bishop had enjoined upon himto shut the door on his past？ But he was not shutting it！ great God！ he was re…opening it by mitting an infamous action！
He was being a thief once more； and the most odious of thieves！
He was robbing another of his existence； his life； his peace； his place in the sunshine。 He was being an assassin。
He was murdering； morally murdering； a wretched man。
He was inflicting on him that frightful living death； that death beneath the open sky； which is called the galleys。 On the other hand； to surrender himself to save that man； struck down with so melancholy an error； to resume his own name； to bee once more； out of duty； the convict Jean Valjean； that was； in truth； to achieve his resurrection； and to close forever that hell whence he had just emerged； to fall back there in appearance was to escape from it in reality。
This must be done！
He had done nothing if he did not do all this； his whole life was useless； all his penitence was wasted。
There was no longer any need of saying； 〃What is the use？〃
He felt that the Bishop was there； that the Bishop was present all the more because he was dead； that the Bishop was gazing fixedly at him； that henceforth Mayor Madeleine； with all his virtues； would be abominable to him； and that the convict Jean Valjean would be pure and admirable in his sight； that men beheld his mask； but that the Bishop saw his face； that men saw his life； but that the Bishop beheld his conscience。 So he must go to Arras； deliver the false Jean Valjean； and denounce the real one。
Alas！ that was the greatest of sacrifices； the most poignant of victories； the last step to take； but it must be done。 Sad fate！ he would enter into sanctity only in the eyes of God when he returned to infamy in the eyes of men。
〃Well； said he； 〃let us decide upon this； let us do our duty； let us save this man。〃
He uttered these words aloud； without perceiving that he was speaking aloud。
He took his books； verified them； and put them in order。 He flung in the fire a bundle of bills which he had against petty and embarrassed tradesmen。
He wrote and sealed a letter； and on the envelope it might have been read； had there been any one in his chamber at the moment； To Monsieur Laffitte； Banker； Rue d'Artois； Paris。
He drew from his secretary a pocket…book which contained several bank…notes and the passport of which he had made use that same year when he went to the elections。
Any one who had seen him during the execution of these various acts； into which there entered such grave thought； would have had no suspicion of what was going on within him。
Only occasionally did his lips move； at other times he raised his head and fixed his gaze upon some point of the wall； as though there existed at that point something which he wished to elucidate or interrogate。
When he had finished the letter to M。 Laffitte； he put it into his pocket； together with the pocket…book； and began his walk once more。
His revery had not swerved from its course。
He continued to see his duty clearly； written in luminous letters； which flamed before his eyes and changed its place as he altered the direction of his glance：
〃Go！
Tell your name！
Denounce yourself！〃
BOOK SEVENTH。THE CHAMPMATHIEU AFFAIR
CHAPTER III（2）
In the same way he beheld； as though they had passed before him in visible forms； the two ideas which had； up to that time； formed the double rule of his soul；the concealment of his name； the sanctification of his life。
For the first time they appeared to him as absolutely distinct； and he perceived the distance which separated them。
He recognized the fact that one of these ideas was； necessarily； good； while the other might bee bad； that the first was self…devotion； and that the other was personality； that the one said； my neighbor； and that the other said； myself； that one emanated from the light； and the other from darkness。
They were antagonistic。
He saw them in conflict。
In proportion as he meditated； they grew before the eyes of his spirit。 They had now attained colossal statures； and it seemed to him that he beheld within himself； in that infinity of which we were recently speaking； in the midst of the darkness and the lights； a goddess and a giant contending。
He was filled with terror； but it seemed to him that the good thought was getting the upper hand。
He felt that he was on the brink of the second decisive crisis of his conscience and of his destiny； that the Bishop had marked the first phase of his new life； and that Champmathieu marked the second。 After the grand crisis； the grand test。
But the fever； allayed for an instant； gradually resumed possession of him。
A thousand thoughts traversed his mind； but they continued to fortify him in his resolution。
One moment he said to himself that he was； perhaps； taking the matter too keenly； that； after all； this Champmathieu was not interesting； and that he had actually been guilty of theft。
He answered himself：
〃If this man has； indeed； stolen a few apples； that means a month in prison。
It is a long way from that to the galleys。 And who knows？
Did he steal？
Has it been proved？
The name of Jean Valjean overwhelms him； and seems to dispense with proofs。 Do not the attorneys for the Crown always proceed in this manner？ He is supposed to be a thief because he is known to be a convict。〃
In another instant the thought had occurred to him that； when he denounced himself； the heroism of his deed might； perhaps； be taken into consideration； and his honest life for the last seven years； and what he had done for the district； and that they would have mercy on him。
But this supposition vanished very quickly； and he smiled bitterly as he remembered that the theft of the forty sous from little Gervais put him in the position of a man guilty of a second offence after conviction； that this affair would certainly e up； and； according to the precise terms of the law； would render him liable to penal servitude for life。
He turned aside from all illusions； detached himself more and more from earth； and sought strength and consolation elsewhere。 He told himself that he must do his duty； that perhaps he should not be more unhappy after doing his duty than after having avoided it； that if he allowed things to take their own course； if he remained at M。 sur M。； his consideration； his good name； his good works； the deference and veneration paid to him； his charity； his wealth； his popularity； his virtue； would be seasoned with a crime。 And what would be the taste of all these holy things when bound up with this hideous thing？ while； if he acplished his sacrifice； a celestial idea would be mingled with the galleys； the post； the iron necklet； the green cap； unceasing toil； and pitiless shame。
At length he told himself that it must be so； that his destiny was thus allotted； that he had not authority to alter the arrangements made on high； that； in any case； he must make his choice：
virtue without and abomination within； or holiness within and infamy without。
The stirring up of these lugubrious ideas did not cause his courage to fail； but his brain grow weary。
He began to think of other things； of indifferent matters； in spite of himself。
The veins in his temples throbbed violently； he still paced to and fro； midnight sounded first from the parish church； then from the town…hall； he counted the twelve strokes of the two clocks； and pared the sounds of the two bells； he recalled in this connection the fact that； a few days previously； he had seen in an ironmonger's shop an ancient clock for sale； upon which was written the name； Antoine…Albin de Romainville。
He was cold； he lighted a small fire； it did not occur to him to close the window。
In the meantime he had relapsed into his stupor； he was obliged to make a tolerably vigorous effort to recall what had been the subject of his thoughts before midnight had struck； he finally succeeded in doing this。
〃Ah！ yes；〃 he said to himself； 〃I had resolved to inform against myself。〃
And then； all of a sudden； he thought of Fantine。
〃Hold！〃 said he； 〃and what about that poor woman？〃
Here a fresh crisis declared itself。
Fantine； by appearing