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There was also a natural sympathy between John Graham and Jean Cochrane, because, though they had been brought up under different traditions and were on opposite sides, they were both resolute, honest, independent, and loyal.
Then, when he had disappeared, might it not have been the remaining funds which Jean urged Otto to divide with him, while the latter, misled and entangled in deception rather than naturally dishonest, held back from such a step? I could hardly doubt so much, and it now required but a slight effort of the imagination to complete the torn note. The next letter of the sister was addressed to Bremen.
Again she took the words from his mouth, exclaiming hotly: "Hush! be silent! you have atoned for all." He reflected a moment. "Yes, perhaps I shall have atoned, when I am dead. Ah, Jean, old fellow, you didn't know what a service you were rendering us all when you gave me that bayonet thrust."
"And after that, Drusilla," he smiled as he phrased it "your Tin Soldier will go to the wars." Jean glanced from one to the other. "Is that what she called you a Tin Soldier?" "It is what I called myself." Marion having come forward to say the proper thing, added, "Drusilla's going, too." "Drusilla?" "Yes, with my college unit to run errands in a flivver."
Jean Lacheneur, more fortunate, was on his feet by the end of the week. Forty days had passed, when one evening it was the 17th of April while the abbe was reading a newspaper to the baron, the door gently opened and one of the Poignot boys put in his head, then quickly withdrew it. The priest finished the paragraph, laid down the paper, and quietly went out.
Rosemilly was fair, with blue eyes, a mass of light waving hair, fluttering at the least breath of wind, and an alert, daring, pugnacious little way with her, which did not in the least answer to the sober method of her mind. She already seemed to like Jean best, attracted, no doubt, by an affinity of nature.
Sandys, "you and Jean Myles is evens now." But the passage that had made them all wince the most was one giving Jean's reasons for making no calls in Thrums Street.
I no longer see clearly, my children, I had still other things to say, but never mind. Think a little of me. Come still nearer. I die happy. Give me your dear and well-beloved heads, so that I may lay my hands upon them." Cosette and Marius fell on their knees, in despair, suffocating with tears, each beneath one of Jean Valjean's hands. Those august hands no longer moved.
So I tried to call to Jean, but the trouble was too great, and, as he would be sure to come out soon, I waited; and I blinked at the smoldering wood-ashes in the fire till my eyes closed and the sleep was all but come, despite the smart of my arm and the ache in my unsupported back. But just before I had forgotten everything the door of the inner room creaked and opened.
Jean opened the door of the sacristy and looked out, and Pierre skated down to the corner of the transept to see who was speaking. I lifted the hand Richard was not holding, and beckoned Jean to me. "Jean," I said, in a low tone still, "this man is my enemy. Monsieur le Curé knows all about him; but he is not here. You must protect me."
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