Part 2 Book 2 Chapter 3 The Ankle-Chain must have undergone

Towards the end of October, in that same year, 1823, the inhabitants of Toulon beheld the entry into their port, after heavy weather, and for the purpose of repairing some damages, of the ship Orion, which was employed later at Brest as a school-ship, and which then formed a part of the Mediterranean squadron.

This vessel, battered as it was,--for the sea had handled it roughly,-- produced a fine effect as it entered the roads. It flew some colors which procured for it the regulation salute of eleven guns, which it returned, shot for shot; total, twenty-two. It has been calculated that what with salvos, royal and military politenesses, courteous exchanges of uproar, signals of etiquette, formalities of roadsteads and citadels, sunrises and sunsets, saluted every day by all fortresses and all ships of war, openings and closings of ports, etc., the civilized world, discharged all over the earth, in the course of four and twenty hours, one hundred and fifty thousand useless shots. At six francs the shot, that comes to nine hundred thousand francs a day, three hundred millions a year, which vanish in smoke. This is a mere detail. All this time the poor were dying of hunger.

The year 1823 was what the Restoration called "the epoch of the Spanish war."

This war contained many events in one, and a quantity of peculiarities. A grand family affair for the house of Bourbon; the branch of France succoring and protecting the branch of Madrid, that is to say, performing an act devolving on the elder; an apparent return to our national traditions, complicated by servitude and by subjection to the cabinets of the North; M. le Duc d'Angouleme, surnamed by the liberal sheets the hero of Andujar, compressing in a triumphal attitude that was somewhat contradicted by his peaceable air, the ancient and very powerful terrorism of the Holy Office at variance with the chimerical terrorism of the liberals; the sansculottes resuscitated, to the great terror of dowagers, under the name of descamisados; monarchy opposing an obstacle to progress described as anarchy; the theories of '89 roughly interrupted in the sap; a European halt, called to the French idea, which was making the tour of the world; beside the son of France as generalissimo, the Prince de Carignan, afterwards Charles Albert, enrolling himself in that crusade of kings against people as a volunteer, with grenadier epaulets of red worsted; the soldiers of the Empire setting out on a fresh campaign, but aged, saddened, after eight years of repose, and under the white cockade; the tricolored standard waved abroad by a heroic handful of Frenchmen, as the white standard had been thirty years earlier at Coblentz; monks mingled with our troops; the spirit of liberty and of novelty brought to its senses by bayonets; principles slaughtered by cannonades; France undoing by her arms that which she had done by her mind; in addition to this, hostile leaders sold, soldiers hesitating, cities besieged by millions; no military perils, and yet possible explosions, as in every mine which is surprised and invaded; but little bloodshed, little honor won, shame for some, glory for no one. Such was this war, made by the princes descended from Louis XIV., and conducted by generals who had been under Napoleon. Its sad fate was to recall neither the grand war nor grand politics.

Some feats of arms were serious; the taking of the Trocadero, among others, was a fine military action; but after all, we repeat, the trumpets of this war give back a cracked sound, the whole effect was suspicious; history approves of France for making a difficulty about accepting this false triumph. It seemed evident that certain Spanish officers charged with resistance yielded too easily; the idea of corruption was connected with the victory; it appears as though generals and not battles had been won, and the conquering soldier returned humiliated. A debasing war, in short, in which the Bank of France could be read in the folds of the flag.

Soldiers of the war of 1808, on whom Saragossa had fallen in formidable ruin, frowned in 1823 at the easy surrender of citadels, and began to regret Palafox. It is the nature of France to prefer to have Rostopchine rather than Ballesteros in front of her.

From a still more serious point of view, and one which it is also proper to insist upon here, this war, which wounded the military spirit of France, enraged the democratic spirit. It was an enterprise of inthralment. In that campaign, the object of the French soldier, the son of democracy, was the conquest of a yoke for others. A hideous contradiction. France is made to arouse the soul of nations, not to stifle it. All the revolutions of Europe since 1792 are the French Revolution: liberty darts rays from France. That is a solar fact. Blind is he who will not see! It was Bonaparte who said it.

The war of 1823, an outrage on the generous Spanish nation, was then, at the same time, an outrage on the French Revolution. It was France who committed this monstrous violence; by foul means, for, with the exception of wars of liberation, everything that armies do is by foul means. The words passive obedience indicate this. An army is a strange masterpiece of combination where force results from an enormous sum of impotence. Thus is war, made by humanity against humanity, despite humanity, explained.

As for the Bourbons, the war of 1823 was fatal to them. They took it for a success. They did not perceive the danger that lies in having an idea slain to order. They went astray, in their innocence, to such a degree that they introduced the immense enfeeblement of a crime into their establishment as an element of strength. The spirit of the ambush entered into their politics. 1830 had its germ in 1823. The Spanish campaign became in their counsels an argument for force and for adventures by right Divine. France, having re-established elrey netto in Spain, might well have re-established the absolute king at home. They fell into the alarming error of taking the obedience of the soldier for the consent of the nation. Such confidence is the ruin of thrones. It is not permitted to fall asleep, either in the shadow of a machineel tree, nor in the shadow of an army.

Let us return to the ship Orion.

During the operations of the army commanded by the prince generalissimo, a squadron had been cruising in the Mediterranean. We have just stated that the Orion belonged to this fleet, and that accidents of the sea had brought it into port at Toulon.

The presence of a vessel of war in a port has something about it which attracts and engages a crowd. It is because it is great, and the crowd loves what is great.

A ship of the line is one of the most magnificent combinations of the genius of man with the powers of nature.

A ship of the line is composed, at the same time, of the heaviest and the lightest of possible matter, for it deals at one and the same time with three forms of substance,--solid, liquid, and fluid,-- and it must do battle with all three. It has eleven claws of iron with which to seize the granite on the bottom of the sea, and more wings and more antennae than winged insects, to catch the wind in the clouds. Its breath pours out through its hundred and twenty cannons as through enormous trumpets, and replies proudly to the thunder. The ocean seeks to lead it astray in the alarming sameness of its billows, but the vessel has its soul, its compass, which counsels it and always shows it the north. In the blackest nights, its lanterns supply the place of the stars. Thus, against the wind, it has its cordage and its canvas; against the water, wood; against the rocks, its iron, brass, and lead; against the shadows, its light; against immensity, a needle.

If one wishes to form an idea of all those gigantic proportions which, taken as a whole, constitute the ship of the line, one has only to enter one of the six-story covered construction stocks, in the ports of Brest or Toulon. The vessels in process of construction are under a bell-glass there, as it were. This colossal beam is a yard; that great column of wood which stretches out on the earth as far as the eye can reach is the main-mast. Taking it from its root in the stocks to its tip in the clouds, it is sixty fathoms long, and its diameter at its base is three feet. The English main-mast rises to a height of two hundred and seventeen feet above the water-line. The navy of our fathers employed cables, ours employs chains. The simple pile of chains on a ship of a hundred guns is four feet high, twenty feet in breadth, and eight feet in depth. And how much wood is required to make this ship? Three thousand cubic metres. It is a floating forest.

And moreover, let this be borne in mind, it is only a question here of the military vessel of forty years ago, of the simple sailing-vessel; steam, then in its infancy, has since added new miracles to that prodigy which is called a war vessel. At the present time, for example, the mixed vessel with a screw is a surprising machine, propelled by three thousand square metres of canvas and by an engine of two thousand five hundred horse-power.

Not to mention these new marvels, the ancient vessel of Christopher Columbus and of De Ruyter is one of the masterpieces of man. It is as inexhaustible in force as is the Infinite in gales; it stores up the wind in its sails, it is precise in the immense vagueness of the billows, it floats, and it reigns.

There comes an hour, nevertheless, when the gale breaks that sixty-foot yard like a straw, when the wind bends that mast four hundred feet tall, when that anchor, which weighs tens of thousands, is twisted in the jaws of the waves like a fisherman's hook in the jaws of a pike, when those monstrous cannons utter plaintive and futile roars, which the hurricane bears forth into the void and into night, when all that power and all that majesty are engulfed in a power and majesty which are superior.

Every time that immense force is displayed to culminate in an immense feebleness it affords men food for thought, Hence in the ports curious people abound around these marvellous machines of war and of navigation, without being able to explain perfectly to themselves why. Every day, accordingly, from morning until night, the quays, sluices, and the jetties of the port of Toulon were covered with a multitude of idlers and loungers, as they say in Paris, whose business consisted in staring at the Orion.

The Orion was a ship that had been ailing for a long time; in the course of its previous cruises thick layers of barnacles had collected on its keel to such a degree as to deprive it of half its speed; it had gone into the dry dock the year before this, in order to have the barnacles scraped off, then it had put to sea again; but this cleaning had affected the bolts of the keel: in the neighborhood of the Balearic Isles the sides had been strained and had opened; and, as the plating in those days was not of sheet iron, the vessel had sprung a leak. A violent equinoctial gale had come up, which had first staved in a grating and a porthole on the larboard side, and damaged the foretop-gallant-shrouds; in consequence of these injuries, the Orion had run back to Toulon.

It anchored near the Arsenal; it was fully equipped, and repairs were begun. The hull had received no damage on the starboard, but some of the planks had been unnailed here and there, according to custom, to permit of air entering the hold.

One morning the crowd which was gazing at it witnessed an accident.

The crew was busy bending the sails; the topman, who had to take the upper corner of the main-top-sail on the starboard, lost his balance; he was seen to waver; the multitude thronging the Arsenal quay uttered a cry; the man's head overbalanced his body; the man fell around the yard, with his hands outstretched towards the abyss; on his way he seized the footrope, first with one hand, then with the other, and remained hanging from it: the sea lay below him at a dizzy depth; the shock of his fall had imparted to the foot-rope a violent swinging motion; the man swayed back and forth at the end of that rope, like a stone in a sling.

It was incurring a frightful risk to go to his assistance; not one of the sailors, all fishermen of the coast, recently levied for the service, dared to attempt it. In the meantime, the unfortunate topman was losing his strength; his anguish could not be discerned on his face, but his exhaustion was visible in every limb; his arms were contracted in horrible twitchings; every effort which he made to re-ascend served but to augment the oscillations of the foot-rope; he did not shout, for fear of exhausting his strength. All were awaiting the minute when he should release his hold on the rope, and, from instant to instant, heads were turned aside that his fall might not be seen. There are moments when a bit of rope, a pole, the branch of a tree, is life itself, and it is a terrible thing to see a living being detach himself from it and fall like a ripe fruit.

All at once a man was seen climbing into the rigging with the agility of a tiger-cat; this man was dressed in red; he was a convict; he wore a green cap; he was a life convict. On arriving on a level with the top, a gust of wind carried away his cap, and allowed a perfectly white head to be seen: he was not a young man.

A convict employed on board with a detachment from the galleys had, in fact, at the very first instant, hastened to the officer of the watch, and, in the midst of the consternation and the hesitation of the crew, while all the sailors were trembling and drawing back, he had asked the officer's permission to risk his life to save the topman; at an affirmative sign from the officer he had broken the chain riveted to his ankle with one blow of a hammer, then he had caught up a rope, and had dashed into the rigging: no one noticed, at the instant, with what ease that chain had been broken; it was only later on that the incident was recalled.

In a twinkling he was on the yard; he paused for a few seconds and appeared to be measuring it with his eye; these seconds, during which the breeze swayed the topman at the extremity of a thread, seemed centuries to those who were looking on. At last, the convict raised his eyes to heaven and advanced a step: the crowd drew a long breath. He was seen to run out along the yard: on arriving at the point, he fastened the rope which he had brought to it, and allowed the other end to hang down, then he began to descend the rope, hand over hand, and then,--and the anguish was indescribable,--instead of one man suspended over the gulf, there were two.

One would have said it was a spider coming to seize a fly, only here the spider brought life, not death. Ten thousand glances were fastened on this group; not a cry, not a word; the same tremor contracted every brow; all mouths held their breath as though they feared to add the slightest puff to the wind which was swaying the two unfortunate men.

In the meantime, the convict had succeeded in lowering himself to a position near the sailor. It was high time; one minute more, and the exhausted and despairing man would have allowed himself to fall into the abyss. The convict had moored him securely with the cord to which he clung with one hand, while he was working with the other. At last, he was seen to climb back on the yard, and to drag the sailor up after him; he held him there a moment to allow him to recover his strength, then he grasped him in his arms and carried him, walking on the yard himself to the cap, and from there to the main-top, where he left him in the hands of his comrades.

At that moment the crowd broke into applause: old convict-sergeants among them wept, and women embraced each other on the quay, and all voices were heard to cry with a sort of tender rage, "Pardon for that man!"

He, in the meantime, had immediately begun to make his descent to rejoin his detachment. In order to reach them the more speedily, he dropped into the rigging, and ran along one of the lower yards; all eyes were following him. At a certain moment fear assailed them; whether it was that he was fatigued, or that his head turned, they thought they saw him hesitate and stagger. All at once the crowd uttered a loud shout: the convict had fallen into the sea.

The fall was perilous. The frigate Algesiras was anchored alongside the Orion, and the poor convict had fallen between the two vessels: it was to be feared that he would slip under one or the other of them. Four men flung themselves hastily into a boat; the crowd cheered them on; anxiety again took possession of all souls; the man had not risen to the surface; he had disappeared in the sea without leaving a ripple, as though he had fallen into a cask of oil: they sounded, they dived. In vain. The search was continued until the evening: they did not even find the body.

On the following day the Toulon newspaper printed these lines:--

"Nov. 17, 1823. Yesterday, a convict belonging to the detachment on board of the Orion, on his return from rendering assistance to a sailor, fell into the sea and was drowned. The body has not yet been found; it is supposed that it is entangled among the piles of the Arsenal point: this man was committed under the number 9,430, and his name was Jean Valjean."

同在那一年，一八二三年，十月将完时，土伦的居民都看见战船“俄里翁号”回港；那条战船日后是停在布雷斯特充练习舰用的，不过在当时隶属于地中海舰队，因为受了大风灾的损害，才回港修理。

那条艨艟巨舰在海里遇了风灾，损伤严重，在驶进船坞时很费了些劲。我已记不起它当时挂的是什么旗，它照例应当接受那十一响礼炮，它也一炮还一炮，总共是二十二炮。礼炮，是王室和陆海军的礼节，是互致敬意的轰鸣，军容的标志，船坞和炮垒的例规，日出日落，开城关城，诸如此类的事，都得由所有的炮垒和所有的战船鸣炮致敬；有人计算过，文明世界在整个地球上鸣放礼炮，每二十四小时要放十五万发，毫无一点用处。按每发六法郎计算，每天就是九十万法郎，每年三千万，全化成了一缕青烟。这不过是件小事。与此同时，穷人却死于饥饿。

一八二三年是复辟王朝所谓的“西班牙战争①时期”。

那次战争在一件事里包含了许多事，并且还有许多奇特之处。那是波旁族的一件重大的家事，法兰西的一支援助和保护了马德里的一支，就是说，维持嫡系承继权的举动，我国民族传统的一次表面的规复；自由主义派报刊称为“安杜哈尔②英雄”的昂古莱姆公爵先生，以一种和他平日镇静态度不大相称的得意之色，抑制了和自由主义派的空想恐怖政策敌对的宗教裁判所的实在的老牌恐怖政策，以赤膊鬼③称号再次出现的无套裤汉④使那些享用亡夫赡养费的寡妇们惊骇万状；还有称进步为无政府状态而横加阻扰的专制主义；在颠覆活动中突然中断过的一七八九年的各种理伦；全欧洲对风行全世界的法兰西思想进行的恫吓；带上羽林军士的红呢肩章、以志愿军人的姿态参加镇压各族人民的君王十字军并和法兰西的儿子、大军统帅并肩作战、化名为查理－阿尔贝的加里昂亲王；休息了八年、已经衰老、又带上白色帽徽⑤垂头丧气地走上征途的帝国士兵；由少数英勇的法国人在国境外高高举起的三色旗令人想起三十年前在科布伦茨⑥出现的白旗；混在我们队伍里的僧侣；被枪刺镇压下去的争取自由和革新的精神；被炮弹挟制住的主义；以武力摧毁自己在思想方面的成就的法兰西；还有，被收买的敌军将领，进退失据的士兵，被亿万金钱围攻着的城市；没有战斗危险却有爆炸可能，正如突然闯进一个炸药坑里那样；流血不多，荣誉不多，几乎个个都有愧色，但无人感到光荣；以上这些，便是西班牙战争，是由路易十四后代中的一些王爷所发动、由当年拿破仑部下的一些将军所导演的。它有这样一种愁惨的特性：既不足比拟前人任何伟大的军事行动，也不能比拟前人任何伟大的政治策略。

①一八二○年西班牙政权转入自由主义者手中，削弱了专制制度和天主教的统治，俄奥普法四国王室决定进行武装干涉，恢复专制统治。一八二三年，十万法军在当时法国国王路易十八之侄昂古莱姆公爵指挥下入侵西班牙；因政府军中许多将军在被收买后倒戈迎敌，法军遂轻易镇压了西班牙资产阶级革命。

②安杜哈尔（Andujar），城名，在西班牙南部，昂古莱姆公爵在此发布文告，企图调和保王党与自由主义派，无效。

③赤膊鬼（descmisados），原指一八二○年发动西班牙革命的自由主义派。

④无套裤汉（SansCculottes），指法国十八世纪资产阶级革命时期的平民，当时短裤和长统袜是贵族的服饰。

⑤白色帽徽，代表波旁王室。

⑥科布伦茨（Coblentz），德国城名，一七九二年，法国逃亡贵族曾在那里组织反革命军队。　

有几次战役是严肃的，例如特罗卡德洛①的占领，便是一次比较壮丽的军事行动；但是，从总的说来，我们再重复一次，那次战争中的号角既然吹得不响亮，整个动机既暧昧不明，历史也就证实了法兰西确是难于接受那种貌似而实非的光荣。西班牙的某些奉命守土的军官，显然是退让得太轻易了，令人想见贿赂在那种胜利当中所起的腐蚀作用；好象我们赢得的不是战争，而是一些将军，以致胜利回国的士兵羞惭满面。那确是一次丢人的战争，旌旗掩映中透露出“法兰西银行”的字样。

①特罗卡德洛（Trocadero），西班牙保卫战中加的斯港的堡垒名。　

在一八○八年轰轰烈烈攻破萨拉戈萨①的士兵们，到了一八二三年，看见那些要塞都轻易开门迎敌，他们都皱起了眉头，叹惜自己没有遇到帕拉福克斯②。法兰西的性格欢迎罗斯托普金③更胜于巴列斯帖罗斯④。

①萨拉戈萨（Saragosse），西班牙城名，一八○八年拿破仑军队攻了七个月，方始攻克。

②帕拉福克斯（Palafox），守萨拉戈萨城的英勇将领。

③罗斯托普金（Rostopchine），一八一二年拿破仑侵俄时的莫斯科总督。

④巴列斯帖罗斯（Ballesteros），一八二三年西班牙抗战将领。

还有一点更为严重，值得强调的，便是那次战争在法国，既伤害了尚武精神，也激怒了民主思想。那是一种奴役人民的事业。法国的士兵是民主思想的儿子，可是在那次战役里，它的任务却是要把枷锁强加在别人的颈上。可耻的不合情理。法兰西的使命是唤醒各族人民的心灵，并不是加以压制。自从一七九二年以来，整个欧洲的革命都是和法国革命分不开的，自由之光从法兰西辐射出去，有如日光的照耀。有眼无珠的人才会瞧不见！这话是波拿巴说的。

一八二三年的战争是对善良的西班牙民族的暴行，同时也是对法兰西革命的暴行。而那种侵犯别人的丑恶暴行，却是法兰西犯下的，并且是强暴的侵犯，因为一切军事行动，除了解放战争以外，全是强暴的侵犯。“被动的服从”这个词就足以表达。军队是一种奇怪的杰作，是由无数薄弱意志综合而成的力量。这样可以说明战争，战争是人类在不由自主的情况下对人类进行侵犯的行为。

对波旁族来说，一八二三年战争正是他的致命伤。他们以为那次战争是一种胜利。他们完全没有看出用强制方法扼杀一种思想的危险。他们在那种天真的想法上，竟会错误到想用犯罪的方法来加强自己统治的力量，而不知道罪行只能大大削弱自己。宵小的伎俩已经渗透了他们的政治。一八三○①已经在一八二三里发芽。西班牙战役在他们的内阁会议上成了武力成功或神权优胜的论争点。法国既然能在西班牙恢复“至尊”的地位，在自己国内自然也就可以恢复专制的君主。他们把军人的服从误认为国民的同意，那是一种可怕的错误。那种信任便是王位倾覆的由来。在毒树的阴影下和军队的阴影下，都不是酣睡的地方。

我们回转来谈那战船“俄里翁号”。

当亲王统帅②率领的军队正在作战时，有一队战船也正穿渡地中海。我们刚才已经说过，“俄里翁号”正是属于那一舰队的，由于海上的风暴，已经驶返土伦港。

①一八三○年七月革命推翻了波旁王朝。

②亲王统帅指昂古莱姆公爵。

一条战船在港内出现，就有一种说不出的吸引群众的力量。那是因为那东西确是伟大，群众所喜爱的也正是伟大的东西。

战船可以显示出人力和天工的极宏伟的汇合。

战船同时是由最重和最轻的物质构成的，因为它和固体、液体、气体三种状态的物质都发生关系，又得和那三种中的每一种进行斗争。它有十一个铁爪，用以抓住海底的岩石，它比蝴蝶还有更多的翅膀和触须，借以伸入云端，招引风力。它从那一百二十门大炮吐气，好象是奇大的号筒，用以回答雷霆，也无逊色。海洋想使它在那千里一色的惊涛骇浪中迷失方向，但是船有它的灵魂，有它那只始终指向北方，替它担任向导的罗盘。在黑夜里，它有代替星光的探照灯。这样，它有帆、索以御风，有木以防水，有铁、铜、铅以防礁，有灯光以防黑暗，有舵以防茫茫的大海。

如果有人要见识见识战船的庞大究竟达何程度，他只须走进布雷斯特或土伦的那种有顶的六层船坞。建造中的战船，不妨说，好象是罩在玻璃罩里似的。那条巨梁是一根挂帆的横杠，那根倒在地上长到望不见末梢的柱子，是一根大桅杆。从它那深入坞底的根算起，直达那伸在云中的尖端，它有六十脱阿斯长，底的直径也有三尺。英国的大桅杆，从水面算起，就有二百十七英尺高。我们前一辈的海船用铁缆，我们今天的海船用铁链。从一艘有一百门炮的战船来说，单是它的链子堆起来就有四尺高，二十尺长，八尺宽。并且造那样一条船，需要多少木料呢？三千立方公尺。那是整个森林在水上浮动。

此外，我们还得注意，我们在此地谈的只是四十年前的战船，简单的帆船。蒸汽在当时还外在幼稚时期，后来才出现那种巧夺天工的新式军舰。到今天，比方说，一条机帆两备、具有螺旋推进器的船，那真是一种骇人的机器，它的帆的面积达三千平方公尺，汽锅有二千五百匹马力。

不谈这些新的奇迹，克里斯托夫·哥伦布①和吕泰尔②所乘的古代船舶就已是人类的伟大杰作了。它有用不完的动力，犹如太空中有无限的气流，它把风兜在帆里，它在茫茫大海中从不迷失方向，它乘风破浪，来往自如。

①克里斯托夫·哥伦布（ChristopheColomb），十五世纪末发现美洲的航海家。

②吕泰尔（Ruyter），十七世纪荷兰海军元帅。　

可是有时也会忽然起一阵狂风，把那六十尺长的帆杠当作麦秸似的一折两段，把那四百尺高的桅杆吹得象根芦苇，反复摇晃；体重万斤的锚，也会在狂澜中飘荡翻腾，如同渔人的钓钩，落在鲸鲵的口里；魔怪似的大炮，发出了悲哀的吼声，可是黑夜沉沉，海天寥廓，炮声随风消失，四顾渺冥；那一切威力，那一切雄姿，都沉没在另一种更高更大的威力和雄姿下面了。

人们见一种盛极一时的力量忽然走上末路，总不免黯然深思。因而海港边常有无数闲人，围着那些奇巧的战舰和航船，伫立观望，连他们自己也无法很好说明这究竟是为了什么。

所以每天从早到晚，在土伦的那些码头、堤岸、防波堤上，都站满了成群的无所事事的人和吊儿郎当的人，照巴黎人的说法，他们的正经事便是看“俄里翁号”。

“俄里翁号”是一条早已有了毛病的船。在它已往的历次航行中，船底上已结聚了层层的介壳，以致它航行的速度降低了一半，去年又曾把它拖出水面，剔除介壳，随后又下海了。但是那次的剔除工作损伤了船底的螺栓。它走到巴利阿里群岛时，船身不得劲，开了裂，由于当时的舱座还没有用铁皮铺底，那条船便进了些水。一阵暴风吹来，使船头的左侧和一扇舷窗破裂，并且损坏了前桅绳索的栓柱。由于那些损害，“俄里翁号”又驶回了土伦港。

它停在兵工厂附近，一面调整设备，一面修理船身。在右舷一面，船壳没有受伤，但是为了使船身内部的空气流通，依照习惯，揭开了几处舷板。

有一天早晨，观众们目击了一件意外的事。

当时海员们正忙着上帆。负责管理大方帆右上角的那个海员忽然失了平衡。他身体摇晃不定，挤在兵工厂码头上的观众们齐声叫喊，只见他头重脚轻，绕着那横杠打转，两手临空；他在倒下去时，一手抓住了一根踏脚的绳环，另一只手也立即一同抓住，便那样悬在空中。他下面是海，深极了，使他头晕目眩。他身体落下时的冲力撞着那绳子在空中强烈摆动。那人吊在绳的末端，荡来荡去，就象投石带①上的一块石子。

①投石带，古代武器，一手握带的两端，带的中间置一石子或铁弹，抛掷出去，可以打人。　

去救他吧，就得冒生命的危险，好不骇人。船上的海员们全是些新近募来当差的渔民，没有一个敢挺身救险。那时，那不幸的帆工气力渐渐不济，人们看不见他脸上的痛苦，却都看得出他四肢的疲乏。他两臂直直地吊在空中，竭力抽搐。他想向上攀援，但是每用一次力，都只能增加那绳子的动荡。他一声也不喊，恐怕耗费气力。大家都眼望着他不久就要松手放弃绳子，所有的人都不时把头转过去，免得看见他下落时的惨象。人的生命常常会系在一小段绳子、一根木竿、一根树枝上，眼见一个活生生的人，好象一个熟了的果子似的，离开树枝往下落，那真是惨不忍睹。

大家忽然看见一个人，矫捷如猫虎，在帆索中间攀登直上。那人身穿红衣，这是苦役犯，他戴一顶绿帽，这是终身苦役犯了。攀到桅棚上面时，一股风吹落了他的帽子，露出了一头白发，他原来不年轻。

那确是一个苦役犯，代替狱中苦役他被调来船上工作，他在刚刚出事时便已跑去找那值班军官，正在全船人员上上下下都惊慌失措束手无策时，他已向军官提出，让他献出生命救那帆工。军官只点了一下头，他就一锤敲断了脚上的铁链，取了一根绳子，飞上了索梯。当时谁也没有注意他那条铁链怎么会那样容易一下便断了。只是在事后大家才回忆起来。

一眨眼，他已到了那横杠上面。他停了几秒钟，仿佛是在估计那距离。他望着那挂在绳子末端的帆工在风中飘荡，那几秒钟，对立在下面观望的人来说，竟好象是几个世纪似的。后来，那苦役犯两眼望着天空，向前走上一步。观众们这才喘了口气。大家望见他顺着那横杠一气向前跑去。跑到杠端以后，他把带去的那根绳子一头结在杠上，一头让它往下垂，接着两手握住绳子，顺势滑下，当时人人心中都有一种说不出的焦急，现在临空悬着的不是一个，而是两个人了。

好象一个蜘蛛刚捉住一只飞虫，不过那是只救命的蜘蛛，而不是来害命的。万众的目光全都盯着那一对生物。谁也没有喊一声，谁也没有说句话，大家全皱着眉头一齐战栗。谁也不肯吐一口气，仿佛吐气会增加风力，会使那两个不幸的人更加飘荡不定似的。

那时，苦役犯已滑到海员的身边。这正是时候，如果再迟一分钟，那人力尽绝望，就会落进深渊；苦役犯一手抓住绳子，一手用那绳子把他紧紧系住。随后，大家望着他重上横杠，把那海员提上去；他又扶着他在那上面立了一会，让他好恢复气力，随后，他双手抱住他，踏着横杠，把他送回桅棚，交给他的伙伴们。

这时，观众齐声喝彩，有些年老的禁子还淌下眼泪，码头上的妇女都互相拥抱，所有的人都带着激发出来的愤怒声一齐喊道：“应当赦免那个人。”

而他呢，那时是遵守规则的，立即下来，赶快归队去干他的苦活。为了早些归队，他顺着帆索滑下，又踏着下面的一根帆杠向前跑。所有的人的眼睛都跟着他。一时，大家全慌了，也许他疲倦了，也许他眼花，大家看见他仿佛有点迟疑，有点摇晃。观众突然一齐大声叫了出来：那苦役犯落到海里去了。那样摔下去是很危险的。轻巡洋舰“阿尔赫西拉斯号”①当时停泊在“俄里翁号”旁边，那可怜的苦役犯正掉在那两条船的中间。可虑的是他会被冲到这一条或那一条船的下面去。四个人连忙跳上一条舢板。观众也一齐鼓励他们，所有的人的心又焦急起来了。那个人再没有浮上水面。他落到海里，水面上没起一丝波纹，这就好象是落进油桶似的。大家从水上打捞，也泅到海底寻找。毫无下落。大家一直找到傍晚，尸体也同样找不到。

①阿尔赫西拉斯（Algésiras），西班牙港口，位于直布罗陀海峡一侧。这条船以城市命名。　

第二天，土伦的报纸上，登了这样几句话：

一八二三年十一月十七日。昨天，有个在“俄里翁号”船上干活的苦役犯，在救了一个海员回队时，落在海里淹死。没能找到他的尸体。据推测，他也许陷在兵工厂堤岸尽头的那些尖木桩下面。

那人在狱里的号码是九四三○，名叫冉阿让。