go on, so thy little robin red-breast
is dead? Speak, so that I may hear thy voice."

Marius gazed at the old man in amazement.

Cosette uttered a heartrending cry.

"Father! my father! you will live. You are going to live. I insist upon
your living, do you hear?"

Jean Valjean raised his head towards her with adoration.

"Oh! yes, forbid me to die. Who knows? Perhaps I shall obey. I was on
the verge of dying when you came. That stopped me, it seemed to me that
I was born again."

"You are full of strength and life," cried Marius. "Do you imagine that
a person can die like this? You have had sorrow, you shall have no more.
It is I who ask your forgiveness, and on my knees! You are going to
live, and to live with us, and to live a long time. We take possession
of you once more. There are two of us here who will henceforth have no
other thought than your happiness."

"You see," resumed Cosette, all bathed in tears, "that Marius says that
you shall not die."

Jean Valjean continued to smile.

"Even if you were to take possession of me, Monsieur Pontmercy, would
that make me other than I am? No, God has thought like you and myself,
and he does not change his mind; it is useful for me to go. Death is
a good arrangement. God knows better than we what we need. May you be
happy, may Monsieur Pontmercy have Cosette, may youth wed the morning,
may there be around you, my children, lilacs and nightingales; may your
life be a beautiful, sunny lawn, may all the enchantments of heaven fill
your souls, and now let me, who am good for nothing, die; it is certain
that all this is right. Come, be reasonable, nothing is possible now, I
am fully conscious that all is over. And then, last night, I drank that
whole jug of water. How good thy husband is, Cosette! Thou art much
better off with him than with me."

A noise became audible at the door.

It was the doctor entering.

"Good-day, and farewell, doctor," said Jean Valjean. "Here are my poor
children."

Marius stepped up to the doctor. He addressed to him only this single
word: "Monsieur? . . ." But his manner of pronouncing it contained a
complete question.

The doctor replied to the question by an expressive glance.

"Because things are not agreeable," said Jean Valjean, "that is no
reason for being unjust towards God."

A silence ensued.

All breasts were oppressed.

Jean Valjean turned to Cosette. He began to gaze at her as though he
wished to retain her fea