They turned into the crossroad; the way became frightfully bad; the cart lurched from one rut to the other; he said to the postilion:— “Keep at a trot, and you shall have a double fee.” In one of the jolts, the whiffle-tree broke. “There’s the whiffle-tree broken, sir,” said the postilion; “I don’t know how to harness my horse now; this road is very bad at night; if you wish to return and sleep at Tinques, we could be in Arras early to-morrow morning.” He replied, “Have you a bit of rope and a knife?” “Yes, sir.” He cut a branch from a tree and made a whiffle-tree of it. This caused another loss of twenty minutes; but they set out again at a gallop. The plain was gloomy; low-hanging, black, crisp fogs crept over the hills and wrenched themselves away like smoke: there were whitish gleams in the clouds; a strong breeze which blew in from the sea produced a sound in all quarters of the horizon, as of some one moving furniture; everything that could be seen assumed attitudes of terror. How many things shiver beneath these vast breaths of the night! He was stiff with cold; he had eaten nothing since the night before; he vaguely recalled his other nocturnal trip in the vast plain in the neighborhood of D——, eight years previously, and it seemed but yesterday. The hour struck from a distant tower; he asked the boy:— “What time is it?” “Seven o’clock, sir; we shall reach Arras at eight; we have but three leagues still to go.” At that moment, he for the first time indulged in this reflection, thinking it odd the while that it had not occurred to him sooner: that all this trouble which he was taking was, perhaps, useless; that he did not know so much as the hour of the trial; that he should, at least, have informed himself of that; that he was foolish to go thus straight ahead without knowing whether he would be of any service or not; then he sketched out some calculations in his mind: that, ordinarily, the sittings of the Court of Assizes began at nine o’clock in the morning; that it could not be a long affair; that the theft of the apples would be very brief; that there would then remain only a question of identity, four or five depositions, and very little for the lawyers to say; that he should arrive after all was over. The postilion whipped up the horses; they had crossed the river and left Mont-Saint-Éloy behind them. The night grew more profound. CHAPTER VI—SISTER SIMPLICE PUT TO THE PROOF But at that moment Fantine was joyous. She had passed a very bad night; her cough was frightful; her fever had doubled in intensity; she had had dreams: in the morning, when the doctor paid his visit, she was delirious; he assumed an alarmed look, and ordered that he should be informed as soon as M. Madeleine arrived.