And plunging into the darkness with certainty like a man who knows
every corner of the room, he took a plank and stopped up the hole.
Gavroche plunged again into the darkness; the children heard the
fizzing of a match dipped into the bottle of phosphorus,--for lucifer
matches did not yet exist, and the Fumade fire-producer represented
progress at that day. A sudden light made them wink. Gavroche had lit
one of those bits of string dipped in pitch which are called "cellar
rats;" and this thing, which smoked more than it illumined, rendered
the inside of the elephant indistinctly visible. Gavroche's two guests
looked around them, and had much such a feeling as any one would have
if shut up in the Heidelberg tun, or, better still, what Jonas must
have experienced in the biblical belly of the whale. An entire gigantic
skeleton was visible to them and enveloped them; above their heads
a long brown beam, from which sprang at regular distances massive
cross-bars, represented the spine with the ribs; stalactites of plaster
hung down like viscera, and vast spider webs formed from one side to
the other dusty diaphragms. Here and there in corners could be seen
large black spots which seemed alive, and changed places rapidly with
a quick and startled movement. The pieces which had fallen from the
elephant's back on its belly had filled up the concavity, so that it
was possible to walk on it as on a flooring. The youngest lad nudged
his brother and said,--
"It is black."
This remark made Gavroche cry out, for the petrified air of the two
lads rendered a check necessary.
"What's that you give me?" he shouted; "do you gab? You have dislikes,
eh! I suppose you want the Tuileries? Are you brutes? Tell me, but I
warn you that I do not belong to the regiment of spoonies. Well, to
hear you talk one would think that your father was a prince of the
blood."
A little roughness is good in terror, for it reassures; the two
children drew nearer to Gavroche, who, affected paternally by this
confidence, passed from sternness to gentleness, and addressing the
younger lad,--
"Blockhead," he said, toning down the insult with a caressing
inflection of the voice, "it is outside that it's black. Outside it
rains, and here it does not rain; outside it is cold, and here there
is not a breath of wind; outside there is a heap of people, and here
there's nobody; outside there's not even the moon, and here there's a
candle, the deuce take it all!"
The two lads began looking round the apartment with less terror, but
Gavroche did not allow them any leisure for contemplation.
"Quick," he said.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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