Page 66 - les-miserables

borders on hate, and which is so well expressed by the word
estrangement.
Still, should the scab of the sheep cause the shepherd to
recoil? No. But what a sheep!
The good Bishop was perplexed. Sometimes he set out in
that direction; then he returned.
Finally, the rumor one day spread through the town that
a sort of young shepherd, who served the member of the
Convention in his hovel, had come in quest of a doctor; that
the old wretch was dying, that paralysis was gaining on
him, and that he would not live over night.—‘Thank God!’
some added.
The Bishop took his staff, put on his cloak, on account
of his too threadbare cassock, as we have mentioned, and
because of the evening breeze which was sure to rise soon,
and set out.
The sun was setting, and had almost touched the horizon
when the Bishop arrived at the excommunicated spot. With
a certain beating of the heart, he recognized the fact that
he was near the lair. He strode over a ditch, leaped a hedge,
made his way through a fence of dead boughs, entered a
neglected paddock, took a few steps with a good deal of
boldness, and suddenly, at the extremity of the waste land,
and behind lofty brambles, he caught sight of the cavern.
It was a very low hut, poor, small, and clean, with a vine
nailed against the outside.
Near the door, in an old wheel-chair, the arm-chair of
the peasants, there was a white-haired man, smiling at the
sun.

66 Les Miserables