In the presence of this line he felt a horrible bedazzlement; he remained for a moment as if crushed by the change of emotion which took place in him. He gazed at Marius's letter with a species of drunken amazement, he had before his eyes this splendor,--the death of the hated being. He uttered a frightful cry of internal joy. So all was over, and the dénouement arrived more quickly than he could have dared to hope. The being that encumbered his destiny was disappearing; he went away of his own accord, freely and willingly, without his doing anything in the matter, without any fault on the part of him, Jean Valjean; "that man" was going to die, perhaps was already dead. Here his fever made its calculations; "No, he is not yet dead. The letter was evidently written to be read by Cosette on the next morning: since the two volleys he had heard between eleven o'clock and midnight nothing had occurred: the barricade would not be seriously attacked till daybreak; but no matter, from the moment when 'that man' is mixed up in this war, he is lost, he is caught in the cog-wheels." Jean Valjean felt himself delivered; he was going to find himself once more alone with Cosette; the rivalry ceased and the future began again. He need only keep the note in his pocket, and Cosette would never know what had become of "that man;" "I have only to let things take their course. That man cannot escape, and if he is not dead yet, it is certain that he is going to die. What happiness!" All this said internally, he became gloomy: he went down and aroused the porter. About an hour later Jean Valjean left the house in the uniform of a National Guard and armed. The porter had easily obtained for him in the neighborhood the articles to complete his equipment: he had a loaded musket and a full cartouche-box. He proceeded in the direction of the markets. CHAPTER IV. GAVROCHE'S EXCESS OF ZEAL. In the mean while an adventure had happened to Gavroche; after conscientiously stoning the lamp in the Rue du Chaume, he approached the Rue des Vieilles Haudriettes, and not seeing "a cat" there, found the opportunity excellent for striking up a song at the full pitch of his lungs. His march, far from being checked by the singing, became accelerated, and he sowed along the sleeping or terrified houses the following incendiary verses:-- "L'oiseau médit dans les charmilles, Et prétend qu'hier Atala Avec un Russe s'en alla. Où vont les belles filles, Lon la. "Mon ami Pierrot, tu babilles, Parce que l'autre jour Mila Cogna sa vitre, et m'appela. Où vont les belles filles, Lon la. "Les drôlesses sont fort gentilles, Leur poison qui m'ensorcela Griserait Monsieur Orfila. Où vont les belles filles, Lon la. "J'aime l'amour et ses bisbilles, J'aime Agnès, j'aime Paméla, Lise en m'allumant se brûla. Où vont les belles filles, Lon la.