"Yes, the difficulty is to remain."
"No," said Fauchelevent, "it is to go out."
Jean Valjean felt the blood rush back to his heart.
"Go out?"
"Yes, Monsieur Madeleine, in order to come in, you must go out."
And, after waiting till a knell had died out in air, Fauchelevent continued,—
"You must not be found here like that. Where do you come from? For me, you fall from heaven because I know you, but the nuns require that people should come in by the front door."
All at once a complicated ringing of another bell could be heard.
"Ah!" said Fauchelevent, "the vocal mothers are being summoned to a Chapter,—a Chapter is always held when any one dies. She died at daybreak, and they generally die at daybreak. But can't you go out by the way that you came in? Come,—I don't want to ask you a question,—but where did you come in?"
Jean Valjean turned pale: the mere idea of going back to that formidable street made him tremble. Come out of a forest full of tigers, and once out of it just imagine a friend advising you to go in again. Jean Valjean figured to himself the police still searching in the quarter, the agents watching, vedettes everywhere, frightful fists stretched out toward his collar, and Javert, perhaps, in a corner lurking for his prey.