Les Misérables, v. 1/5: Fantine

by Victor Hugo

  CHAPTER IV.

  AUTHORITY RESUMES ITS RIGHTS.

  Fantine had not seen Javert since the day when the Mayor tore her outof his clutches, and her sickly brain could form no other thought butthat he had come to fetch her. She could not endure his frightful face:she felt herself dying. She buried her face in her hands, and criedwith agony,--

  "Monsieur Madeleine, save me!"

  Jean Valjean--we will not call him otherwise in future--had risen, andsaid to Fantine in his gentlest, calmest voice,--

  "Do not be alarmed: he has not come for you."

  Then he turned to Javert and said,--

  "I know what you want."

  And Javert answered,--

  "Come, make haste--"

  There was something savage and frenzied in the accent that accompaniedthese words; no orthographer could write it down, for it was no longerhuman speech, but a roar. He did not behave as usual, he did not enterinto the matter or display his warrant. To him Jean Valjean was asort of mysterious combatant, a dark wrestler with whom he had beenstruggling for five years, and had been unable to throw. This arrestwas not a beginning but an end, and he confined himself to saying,"Come, make haste." While speaking thus, he did not advance: he merelydarted at Jean Valjean the look which he threw out as a grapple, andwith which he violently drew wretches to him. It was this look whichFantine had felt pierce to her marrow two months before. On hearingJavert's roar, Fantine opened her eyes again; but the Mayor waspresent, so what had she to fear? Javert walked into the middle of theroom and cried,--

  "Well, are you coming?"

  The unhappy girl looked around her. No one was present but the nun andthe Mayor; to whom, then, could this humiliating remark be addressed?Only to herself. She shuddered. Then she saw an extraordinarything,--so extraordinary that nothing like it had ever appeared in thedarkest delirium of fever. She saw the policeman Javert seize the Mayorby the collar, and she saw the Mayor bow his head. It seemed to her asif the end of the world had arrived.

  "Monsieur le Maire!" Fantine screamed.

  Javert burst into a laugh,--that frightful laugh which showed all histeeth.

  "There is no Monsieur le Maire here."

  Jean Valjean did not attempt to remove the hand that grasped hiscollar; he said,--

  "Javert--"

  Javert interrupted him: "Call me Monsieur the Inspector."

  "I should like to say a word to you in private, sir," Jean Valjeancontinued.

  "Speak up," Javert answered; "people talk aloud to me."

  Jean Valjean went on in a low voice,--

  "It is a request I have to make of you."

  "I tell you to speak up."

  "But it must only be heard by yourself--"

  "What do I care for that? I am not listening!"

  Jean Valjean turned to him and said rapidly, and in a very low voice,--

  "Grant me three days,--three days to go and fetch this unhappy woman'schild! I will pay whatever you ask, and you can accompany me if youlike."

  "You must be joking," Javert cried. "Why, I did not think you such afool! You ask three days of me that you may bolt! You say that it is tofetch this girl's brat! Ah, ah, that is rich, very rich!"

  Fantine had a tremor.

  "My child!" she exclaimed,--"to go and fetch my child? Then she is nothere! Sister, answer me,--where is Cosette? I want my child! MonsieurMadeleine, M. le Maire!"

  Javert stamped his foot.

  "There's the other beginning now; will you be quiet, wench? A devil'sown country, where galley-slaves are magistrates, and street-walkersare nursed like countesses. Well, well, it will be altered now, andit's time for it."

  He looked fixedly at Fantine, and added, as he took a fresh hold ofJean Valjean's cravat, shirt, and coat-collar,--

  "I tell you there is no M. Madeleine and no Monsieur le Maire; butthere is a robber, a brigand, a convict of the name of Jean Valjean,and I've got him,--that's what there is!"

  Fantine rose, supporting herself on her stiffened arms and hands; shelooked at Jean Valjean; she looked at Javert; she looked at the nun;she opened her mouth as if to speak, but there was a rattle in herthroat, her teeth chattered, she stretched out her arms, convulsivelyopening her hands, clutching like a drowning man, and then suddenlyfell back on the pillow. Her head struck against the bed-head, and fellback on her breast with gaping mouth and open eyes. She was dead. JeanValjean laid his hand on that one of Javert's which held him, opened itas if it had been a child's hand, and then said to Javert,--

  "You have killed this woman."

  "Enough of this!" Javert shouted furiously. "I am not here to listento abuse, so you can save your breath. There is a guard down below, socome quickly, or I shall handcuff you."

  There was in the corner of the room an old iron bedstead in a badcondition, which the sisters used as a sofa when they were sitting upat night. Jean Valjean went to this bed, tore off in a twinkling thehead piece,--an easy thing for muscles like his,--seized the supportingbar, and looked at Javert. Javert recoiled to the door. Jean Valjean,with the iron bar in his hand, walked slowly up to Fantine's bed; whenhe reached it, he turned and said to Javert in a scarcely audiblevoice,--

  "I would advise you not to disturb me just at present."

  One thing is certain,--Javert trembled. He thought of going to fetchthe guard, but Jean Valjean might take advantage of the moment toescape. He therefore remained, clutched his stick by the small end, andleaned against the door-post, without taking his eyes off Jean Valjean.The latter rested his elbow on the bedstead, and his forehead on hishand, and began contemplating Fantine, who lay motionless before him.He remained thus, absorbed and silent, and evidently not thinking ofanything else in the world. On his face and in his attitude there wasonly an indescribable pity. After a few minutes passed in this reverie,he stooped over Fantine and spoke to her in a low voice. What did hesay to her? What could this outcast man say to this dead woman? No oneon earth heard the words, but did that dead woman hear them? There aretouching illusions, which are perhaps sublime realities. One thing isindubitable, that Sister Simplice, the sole witness of what took place,has frequently declared that at the moment when Jean Valjean whisperedin Fantine's ear, she distinctly saw an ineffable smile playing roundher pale lips and in her vague eyeballs, which were full of theamazement of the tomb. Jean Valjean took Fantine's head in his hands,and laid it on the pillow, as a mother might have done to a child.Then he tied the strings of her nightgown, and thrust her hair underher cap. When this was done, he closed her eyes. Fantine's face atthis moment seemed strangely illumined, for death is the entrance intobrilliant light. Fantine's hand was hanging out of bed; Jean Valjeanknelt down by this hand, gently raised and kissed it. Then he rose andturned to Javert,--

  "Now I am at your service."

  CHAPTER V.

  A VERY PROPER TOMB.

  Javert placed Jean Valjean in the town jail. The arrest of M. Madeleineproduced an extraordinary commotion in M----, but it is sad to haveto say that nearly everybody abandoned him on hearing that he was agalley-slave. In less than two hours all the good he had done wasforgotten, and he was only a galley-slave. It is but fair to say,though, that they did not yet know the details of the affair at Arras.The whole day through, conversations like the following could be heardin all parts of the town:--

  "Don't you know? he is a liberated convict.--Who is?--TheMayor.--Nonsense. M. Madeleine?--Yes.--Really?--His name is notMadeleine, but some hideous thing like B?jean, Bojean, Boujean.--Oh,my goodness--he has been arrested, and will remain in the town jailtill he is removed.--Removed! where to?--He will be tried at theassizes for a highway robbery which he formerly committed.--Well,do you know, I always suspected that man, for he was too kind, tooperfect, too devout. He refused the cross, and gave sous to all thelittle scamps he met. I always thought that there was some black storybehind."

  The "drawing-rooms" greatly improved the occasion. An old lady, whosubscribed to the _Drapeau Blanc_, made this remark, whose depth it isalmo
st impossible to fathom,--

  "Well, I do not feel sorry at it, for it will be a lesson to theBuonapartists."

  It is thus that the phantom which called itself M. Madeleine fadedaway at M----; only three or four persons in the whole town remainedfaithful to his memory, and his old servant was one of them. On theevening of the same day this worthy old woman was sitting in her lodge,still greatly startled and indulging in sad thoughts. The factoryhad been closed all day, the gates were bolted, and the street wasdeserted. There was no one in the house but the two nuns, who werewatching by Fantine's body. Toward the hour when M. Madeleine was wontto come in, the worthy portress rose mechanically, took the key ofM. Madeleine's bed-room from a drawer, and the candlestick which heused at night to go up-stairs; then she hung the key on the nail fromwhich he usually took it, and placed the candlestick by its side, asif she expected him. Then she sat down again and began thinking. Thepoor old woman had done all this unconsciously. She did not break offher reverie for two or three hours, and then exclaimed: "Only think ofthat! I have hung his key on the nail!"

  At this moment the window of the lodge was opened, a hand was passedthrough the opening, which seized the key and lit the candle by hers.The portress raised her eyes, and stood with gaping mouth, but sherepressed the cry which was in her throat; for she recognized thishand, this arm, this coat-sleeve, as belonging to M. Madeleine. It wassome minutes ere she could speak, for she "was struck," as she saidafterwards when describing the adventure.

  "Good gracious, M. le Maire!" she at length exclaimed, "I fancied--"

  She stopped, for the end of the sentence would have been disrespectfulto the first part. Jean Valjean was still Monsieur le Maire with her.He completed her thought.

  "That I was in prison?" he said. "I was so, but I pulled out a bar,leaped out, and here I am. I am going up to my room; go and fetchSister Simplice, who doubtless is by the side of that poor woman."

  The old servant hastened to obey; he said nothing further to her,for he was quite sure that she would guard him better than he couldhimself. It was never known how he managed to get into the yard withouthaving the gate opened. He always carried about him a master-key, whichopened a little side door, but he must have been searched and this keytaken from him. This point was not cleared up. He went up the stairsthat led to his room, and on reaching the landing, left the candleon the top stair, closed his window and shutters, and then enteredthe room with the candle. This precaution was useful, for it will beremembered that his window could be noticed from the street. He took aglance around him, at his table, his chair, his bed, which had not beenslept in for three nights. No trace of that night's disorder remained,for the portress "had done his room;" but she had picked out of theashes and laid neatly on the table the two iron ends of the stick andthe forty-sous piece, which was blackened by the fire. He took a sheetof paper, on which he wrote, "This is the two-franc piece stolen fromLittle Gervais to which I alluded in court," and he laid the coin onthe paper, so that it should be the first thing seen on entering theroom. He took from a drawer an old shirt which he tore up, and wrappedthe two candlesticks in the rags. Still, he displayed no haste oragitation, and while wrapping up the candlesticks he ate a piece ofblack bread,--probably the prison bread which he took with him on hisescape. This fact was proved by the crumbs found on the boards whenthe authorities made an investigation at a later date. There were twogentle taps at the door. "Come in," he said.

  It was Sister Simplice; she was pale, her eyes were red, and thecandle she held shook in her hand. Violent events of destiny have thispeculiarity, that however perfect or cold we may be, they draw humannature out of our entrails and compel it to reappear on the surface. Inthe emotions of this day the nun had become a woman again; she had weptand was trembling. Jean Valjean had just finished writing some lineson a piece of paper, which he handed to the sister, with the remark,"Sister, you will deliver this to the Cur??"

  As the paper was open, she turned her eyes on it. "You may read it," hesaid.

  She read, "I request the Cur? to take charge of all that I leave here.He will be good enough to defray out of it the costs of my trial andthe interment of the woman who died this morning. The rest will be forthe poor."

  The sister attempted to speak, but could only produce a fewinarticulate sounds: at length she managed to say,--

  "Do you not wish to see the poor unhappy girl for the last time, sir?"

  "No," he said; "I am pursued, and if I were to be arrested in her roomit would disturb her."

  He had scarce said this, ere a great noise broke out on the staircase:they heard a tumult of ascending steps, and the old servant cry in herloudest and most piercing voice,--

  "My good sir, I can take my oath that no one has come in here all dayor all the evening, and I have not left my lodge once."

  A man answered,--

  "But there is a light in that room."

  They recognized Javert's voice. The room was so built that the door,on being thrown open, concealed a nook in the right-hand wall: JeanValjean blew out the light and crept into the nook. Sister Simplicefell on her knees by the table, as the door opened and Javert entered.The voices of several men and the protestations of the old portresscould be heard. The nun did not raise her eyes: she was praying. Hercandle was on the chimney and gave but little light, and on noticingthe nun, Javert halted in great confusion. It will be rememberedthat the very basis of Javert, his element, the air he breathed, wasreverence for all authority: he was all of one piece, and allowed noobjection or limitation. With him, of course, ecclesiastical authoritywas the highest of all: he was religious, superficial, and correct onthis point as on all. In his eyes, a priest was a spirit that does notdeceive, a nun a creature who does not sin. Theirs were souls walledup against the world with only one door, which never opened except tolet truth pass out. On noticing the sister, his first movement was towithdraw, but he had another duty too, which imperiously urged him inan opposite direction. His second impulse was to remain, and at leastventure one question. Sister Simplice had never told a falsehood in herlife: Javert was aware of this, and especially revered her for it.

  "Sister," he asked, "are you alone in the room?"

  There was a terrible moment, during which the old servant felt as ifshe were going to faint: the sister raised her eyes and said, "Yes."

  "In that case," Javert continued, "I beg your pardon for pressing you,but it is my duty,--you have not seen this evening a person, a manwho has escaped and we are seeking,--that fellow of the name of JeanValjean. Have you seen him?"

  The sister answered "No."

  She had told two falsehoods, one upon the other, without hesitation,rapidly, as if devoting herself.

  "I beg your pardon," said Javert; and he withdrew with a deep bow.

  Oh, holy woman! it is many years since you were on this earth; you haverejoined in the light your sisters the virgins and your brothers theangels; may this falsehood be placed to your credit in Paradise!

  The sister's assertion was so decisive for Javert that he did notnotice the singular fact of the candle just blown out, and which wasstill smoking on the table. An hour later a man, making his way throughthe fog, was hurrying away from M---- in the direction of Paris. Thisman was Jean Valjean; and it was proved, by the testimony of two orthree carriers who met him, that he was carrying a bundle and wasdressed in a blouse. Where did he procure this blouse from? It wasnever known; but a few days before, an old workman had died in theinfirmary of the sailors, leaving only a blouse. It might have beenthat one.

  One last word about Fantine. We have all one mother, the earth, andFantine was given back to that mother. The Cur? thought he was doinghis duty, and perhaps did it, in keeping as much money for the poor ashe possibly could out of what Jean Valjean left him. After all, whowere the people interested? A convict and a street-walker: hence hesimplified Fantine's interment, and reduced it to what is called the"public grave." Fantine was therefore interred in the free corner ofthe cemetery, which belongs to ev
erybody and to nobody, and where thepoor are lost. Fortunately God knows where to look for a soul. Fantinewas laid in the darkness among a pile of promiscuous bones in thepublic grave. Her tomb resembled her bed.

  END OF PART FIRST.