by Victor Hugo
CHAPTER VIII.
MADAME VICTURNIEN SPENDS THIRTY FRANCS ON MORALITY.
When Fantine saw that she could earn her own living, she had a momentof joy. To live honestly by her own toil, what a favor of Heaven! Ataste for work really came back to her: she bought a looking-glass,delighted in seeing in it her youth, her fine hair and fine teeth;forgot many things, only thought of Cosette, and her possible future,and was almost happy. She hired a small room and furnished it, oncredit, to be paid for out of her future earnings,--this was a relic ofher irregular habits.
Not being able to say that she was married, she was very careful notto drop a word about her child. At the outset, as we have seen, shepunctually paid the Th?nardiers; and as she could only sign her name,she was compelled to write to them through the agency of a publicwriter. It was noticed that she wrote frequently. It was beginningto be whispered in the shop that Fantine "wrote letters," and was"carrying on."
No one spies the actions of persons so much as those whom they do notconcern. Why does this gentleman never come till nightfall? Why doesSo-and-So never hang up his key on Thursdays? Why does he always takeback streets? Why does Madame always get out of her hackney coachbefore reaching her house? Why does she send out to buy a quire ofnote-paper, when she has a desk full? and so on. There are peoplewho, in order to solve these inquiries, which are matters of utterindifference to them, spend more money, lavish more time, and takemore trouble, than would be required for ten good deeds: and they doit gratuitously for the pleasure, and they are only paid for theircuriosity with curiosity. They will follow a gentleman or a ladyfor whole days, will stand sentry at the corner of a street or in agateway at night in the cold and rain; corrupt messengers, intoxicatehackney coachmen and footmen, buy a lady's-maid, and make a purchaseof a porter,--why? For nothing; for a pure desire to see, know, andfind out--it is a simple itch for talking. And frequently thesesecrets, when made known, these mysteries published, these enigmasbrought to daylight, entail catastrophes, duels, bankruptcies, ruinof families, to the great delight of those who found it all out,without any personal motives, through pure instinct. It is a sadthing. Some persons are wicked solely through a desire to talk, andthis conversation, which is gossip in the drawing-room, scandal in theante-room, is like those chimneys which consume wood rapidly; theyrequire a great deal of combustible, and this combustible is theirneighbor.
Fantine was observed then, and besides, more than one girl was jealousof her light hair and white teeth. It was noticed that she often wipedaway a tear in the shop; it was when she was thinking of her child,perhaps of the man she had loved. It is a painful labor to break offall the gloomy connecting links with the past. It was a fact thatshe wrote, at least twice a month, and always to the same address,and paid the postage. They managed to obtain the address: "MonsieurTh?nardier, Publican, Montfermeil." The public writer, who could notfill his stomach with wine without emptying his pocket of secrets, wasmade to talk at the wine-shop; and, in short, it was known that Fantinehad a child. A gossip undertook a journey to Montfermeil, spoke tothe Th?nardiers, and on her return said, "I do not begrudge my thirtyfrancs, for I have seen the child."
The gossip who did this was a Gorgon of the name of Madame Victurnien,guardian and portress of everybody's virtue. She was fifty-six yearsof age, and covered the mask of ugliness with the mask of old age.Astounding to say, this old woman had once been young; in her youth,in '93, she had married a monk, who escaped from the cloisters in ared cap, and passed over from the Bernardines to the Jacobins. She wasdry, crabbed, sharp, thorny, and almost venomous, while rememberingthe monk whose widow she was and who had considerably tamed her. Atthe Restoration she had turned bigot, and so energetically, that thepriests forgave her her monk. She had a small estate which she leftwith considerable pallor to a religious community, and she was verywelcome at the Episcopal Palace of Arras. This Madame Victurnien, then,went to Montfermeil, and when she returned, said, "I have seen thechild."
All this took time, and Fantine had been more than a year at thefactory, when one morning the forewoman handed her 50 francs in theMayor's name, and told her that she was no longer engaged, and hadbetter leave the town, so the Mayor said. It was in this very monththat the Th?nardiers, after asking for 12 francs instead of 7, raised aclaim for 15 instead of 12. Fantine was startled; she could not leavethe town, for she owed her rent and for her furniture, and 50 francswould not pay those debts. She stammered a few words of entreaty, butthe forewoman intimated to her that she must leave the shop at once;moreover, Fantine was but an indifferent workwoman. Crushed by shamemore than disgrace, she left the factory, and returned to her room: herfault then was now known to all! She did not feel the strength in herto say a word; she was advised to see the Mayor, but did not dare doso. The Mayor gave her 50 francs because he was kind, and dischargedher because he was just; and she bowed her head to the sentence.