Join Host Bree Carlile as she reads the one hundred twelfth chapter of Les Miserables.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Take a look, in the book and let's see

what we can find.

Take it chapter by chapter. One

fight M at a time

so many adventures and

mountains we can climb

to give word for word, line by

line, one bite at a time.

>> Brie Carlisle: Welcome to bite at a time books where we read you your

favorite classics one byte at a time. my name is

Bre Carlisle and I love to read and wanted to

share my passion with listeners like you. If you

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>> Brie Carlisle: Values today well be

continuing.

Les miserables by Victor

Hugo chapter

four the gropings of flight

in order to understand what follows,

it is requisite to form an exact idea of the

droitmar lane, and in particular,

of the angle which one leaves on the left when one emerges from

the rue Polonceau into this lane.

Droit Merlane was almost entirely bordered

on the right as far as the rue petit

picpus by houses of mean

aspect on the left by a solitary building

of severe outlines composed of numerous

parts which grew gradually higher by a story or two as

they approached the rue petite picpiss side, so

that this building, which was very

lofty on the rue petit Picpiss side, was tolerably

low on the side adjoining the rue palanzeau.

There, at the angle of which we have spoken, it

descended to such a degree that it consisted of merely a

wall. This wall did not abut

directly on the street it formed a deeply

retreating niche concealed by its two corners.

From two observers who might have been one

in the rue pallanceau, the other in the rue droit

mur. Beginning with these angles of the

niche, the wall extended along the rue

Palanceau as far as a house which bore the number

49, and along the rue droit mur,

where the fragment was much shorter. As far as the

gloomy building which we have mentioned, and whose gable it

intersected, thus forming another

retreating angle in the street, this

gable was somber of aspect.

Only one window was visible, or,

to speak more correctly, two shutters covered

with a sheet of zinc and kept constantly closed.

The state of the places of which we are here giving a

description, is rigorously exactly and will

certainly awaken a very precise memory in the mind of old

inhabitants of the quarter. The niche was

entirely filled by a thing which resembled, a colossal and wretched

door. It was a vast,

formless assemblage of perpendicular

planks, the upper ones being broader than the

lower, bound together by long traverse

strips of iron. At one side there was a

carriage gate of the ordinary dimensions, and which

had evidently not been cut more than 50 years

previously. A linden tree showed

its crest above the niche, and the wall was

covered with ivy. On the side of the rue Polonceau,

in the imminent peril in which Jean Valjean found

himself, this sombre building had about it

a solitary and uninhabited look which tempted

him. He ran his eyes rapidly over

it. He said to himself that if he could contrive

to get inside it, he might save himself.

First he conceived an idea, then

a hope. In the central portion of the front of

this building, on the rudroit mer side,

there were at all the windows of the different stories,

ancient cistern, pipes of lead, the

various branches of the pipes which led from one central

pipe to all these little basins, sketched out a sort

of tree on the front. These

ramifications of pipes with their hundred elbows imitated

those old leafless vine stalks which writhe

over the fronts of old farmhouses.

This odd espalier, with its

branches of lead and iron, was the first

thing that struck Jean Valjean. He seated

Cosette with her back against a stone post with

an injunction to be silent, and ran to the spot

where the conduit touched the pavement.

Perhaps there was some way of climbing up by it and

entering the house, but the pipe was

dilapidated and past service and hardly hung to its

fastenings. Moreover, all the windows

of this silent dwelling were grated with heavy iron bars,

even the attic windows in the roof. And

then the moon fell upon that facade, and the man who was

watching at the corner of the street would have seen Jean Valjean in the act

of climbing. And finally, what

was to be done with Cosette? How was she to

be drawn up to the top of a three story house?

He gave up all idea of climbing by means of the drain pipe

and crawled along the wall to get back into the rue

palanzo. When he reached the slant of

the wall where he had left Cosette, he noticed

that no one could see him there. As we have

just explained, he was concealed from all eyes,

no matter from which direction they were approaching.

Besides this, he was in the shadow.

Finally, there were two doors.

Perhaps they might be forced. The wall

above which he saw the linden tree and the ivy evidently

abutted on a garden where he could at least

hide himself. Although there were as yet no

leaves on the trees and spend the remainder of the

night. Time was passing.

He must act quickly. He fell over the

carriage door and immediately recognized the fact that it was

impracticable outside and in.

He approached the other door with M. More hope.

It was frightfully decrepit. Its

very immensity rendered it less solid.

The planks were rotten. The iron

bands there were only three of them, were

rusted. It seemed as though it might be possible

to pierce this worm eaten barrier. On

examining it, he found that the door was not a door.

It had neither hinges, crossbars, lock, nor

fissure in the middle. The iron bands

traversed it from side to side without any break.

Through the crevices in the planks, he caught a view of unhewn

slabs and blocks of stone roughly cemented together,

which passersby might still have seen there ten years

ago. He was forced to

acknowledge with consternation that this, apparent door was simply the

wooden decoration of a building against which it was

placed. It was easy to tear off

a plank, but then one found

oneself face to face with a wall.

Thank you for joining Byte out of time books today. while we read a

bite of one of your favorite classics.

Again, my name is Brie Carlisle, and I

hope you come back tomorrow for the next bite

of Le Miserable.

>> Brie Carlisle: Dont forget to sign up for our

newsletter@biteaditimebooks.com and check

out the shop. You can check out the show notes or

our website, byteaditimebooks.com, for

the rest of the links for our show. Wed love to

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