Les Misérables, v. 3/5: Marius

  "Who's that?" he asked.

  It was the girl.

  "Oh it's you!" Marius continued almost harshly,--"always you! What doyou want of me?"

  She seemed thoughtful, and made no answer, and she no longer had herboldness of the morning; she did not come in, but stood in the darkpassage, where Marius perceived her through the half-open door.

  "Well, answer!" said Marius; "what do you want of me?"

  She raised her dull eye, in which a sort of lustre seemed to be vaguelyillumined, and said,--

  "Monsieur Marius, you look sad; what is the matter with you?"

  "Nothing."

  "Yes, there is!"

  "Leave me alone!"

  Marius pushed the door again, but she still held it.

  "Stay," she said; "you are wrong. Though you are not rich, you werekind this morning, and be so again now. You gave me food, and now tellme what is the matter with you. It is easy to see that you are insorrow, and I do not wish you to be so. What can I do to prevent it,and can I be of any service to you? Employ me; I do not ask for yoursecrets, and you need not tell them to me, but I may be of use to you.Surely I can help you, as I help my father. When there are any lettersto deliver, or any address to be found by following people, or askingfrom door to door, I am employed. Well, you can tell me what is thematter with you, and I will go and speak to persons. Now and then itis sufficient for some one to speak to persons in order to find outthings, and all is arranged. Employ me."

  An idea crossed Marius's mind, for no branch is despised when we feelourselves falling. He walked up to the girl.

  "Listen to me," he said; "you brought an old gentleman and his daughterhere."

  "Yes."

  "Do you know their address?"

  "No."

  "Find it for me."

  The girl's eye, which was dull, had become joyous, but now it becamegloomy.

  "Is that what you want?" she asked.

  "Yes."

  "Do you know them?"

  "No."

  "That is to say," she added quickly, "you don't know her, but you wouldlike to know her."

  This "them," which became "her," had something most significant andbitter about it.

  "Well, can you do it?" Marius said.

  "You shall have the beautiful young lady's address."

  In these words there was again a meaning which annoyed Marius, so hewent on,--

  "Well, no matter! the father and daughter's address,--their address, Isay."

  She looked at him fixedly.

  "What will you give me for it?"

  "Whatever you like."

  "Whatever I like? You shall have the address."

  She hung her head, and then closed the door with a hurried gesture;Marius was alone again. He fell into a chair, with his head and elbowson his bed, sunk in thoughts which he could not grasp, and sufferingfrom a dizziness. All that had happened since the morning,--theapparition of the angel, her disappearance, and what this creaturehad just said to him, a gleam of hope floating in an immense despair,--this is what confusedly filled his brain. All at once he wasviolently dragged out of his reverie, for he heard Jondrette's loud,hard voice uttering words full of the strangest interest for him.

  "I tell you that I am sure, and that I recognized him."

  Of whom was Jondrette talking, and whom had he recognized? M. Leblanc,the father of "his Ursule." What! did Jondrette know him? Was Mariusgoing to obtain, in this sudden and unexpected fashion, all theinformation without which his life was obscure for himself? Was heat last going to know who she was whom he loved, and who her fatherwas? Was the thick cloud that covered them on the point of clearingoff? Would the veil be rent asunder? Oh, heavens! He bounded ratherthan ascended upon the chest of drawers and resumed his place at theaperture in the partition: once more he saw the interior of Jondrette'sden.

  CHAPTER XII.

  THE USE OF M. LEBLANC'S FIVE-FRANC PIECE.

  There was no change in the appearance of the family, save that motherand daughters had put on stockings and flannel waistcoats taken outof the parcel, and two new blankets were thrown on the beds. The manhad evidently just returned, for he was out of breath; his daughterswere seated near the chimney-piece on the ground, the elder tyingup the younger's hand. The mother was crouching on the bed near thefire-place, with an astonished face, while Jondrette was walking up anddown the room with long strides and extraordinary eyes. The woman, whoseemed frightened and struck with stupor before him, ventured to say,--

  "What, really, are you sure?"

  "Sure! it is eight years ago, but I can recognize him! I recognized himat once. What I did it not strike you?"

  "No."

  "And yet I said to you, 'Pay attention!' Why, it is his figure, hisface, very little older,--for there are some people who never age,though I do not know how they manage it,--and the sound of his voice.He is better dressed, that's all! Ah! you mysterious old villain, Ihold you!"

  He stopped and said to his daughters,--

  "Be off, you two!--It is funny that it did not strike you."

  They rose to obey, and the mother stammered,--

  "With her bad hand?"

  "The air will do it good," said Jondrette. "Off with you!"

  It was evident that this man was one of those who are not answered. Thegirls went out, but just as they passed the door the father clutchedthe elder by the arm, and said, with a peculiar accent,--

  "You will be here at five o'clock precisely, both of you, for I shallwant you."

  Marius redoubled his attention. When left alone with his wife,Jondrette began walking up and down room again, and took two or threeturns in silence. Then he spent several minutes thrusting the tail ofthe chemise which he wore into his trousers. All at once he turned tohis wife, folded his arms, and exclaimed,--

  "And shall I tell you something? The young lady--"

  "Well, what?" the wife retorted.

  Marius could not doubt, they were really talking about her. He listenedwith ardent anxiety, and all his life was in his ears. But Jondrettehad stooped down, and was whispering to his wife. Then he rose, andended aloud,--

  "It is she."

  "That one?" the wife asked.

  "That one!" said the husband.

  No expression could render all there was in the mother's _that one_;it was surprise, rage, hatred, and passion mingled and combined in amonstrous intonation. A few words, doubtless a name which her husbandwhispered in her ear, were sufficient to arouse this fat, crushedwoman, and to make her more than repulsive and frightful.

  "It is not possible," she exclaimed; "when I think that my daughtersgo about barefooted, and have not a gown to put on! What! a satinpelisse, a velvet bonnet, clothes worth more than two hundred francs,so that you might take her for a lady! No, you are mistaken; and then,the other was hideous, while this one is not ugly, indeed, rathergood-looking. Oh, it cannot be!"

  "And I tell you that it is; you will see."

  At this absolute assertion the woman raised her large red and whiteface and looked at the ceiling with a hideous expression. At thismoment she appeared to Marius even more formidable than her husband,for she was a sow with the glance of a tigress.

  "What!" she continued, "that horrible young lady who looked at mydaughters with an air of pity is that vagabond! Oh! I should like tojump on her stomach with wooden shoes."

  She leaped off the bed, and stood for a moment unkempt, with swollennostrils, parted lips, and clenched fists; then she fell back again onthe bed. The husband walked up and down and paid no attention to hiswife. After a short silence he went up to her and stood in front of herwith folded arms, as he had done a few moments previously.

  "And shall I tell you something else?"

  "What?" she asked.

  He replied in a low, guttural voice, "That my fortune is made."

  The wife looked at him in the way which means, "Can the man who istalking to me have suddenly gone mad?" He continued,--

  "Thunder! I have been a long time a par
ishioner of the parish ofdie-of-hunger-if-you-are-cold, and die-of-cold-if-you-have-bread! Ihave had enough of that misery! I am not jesting, for I no longerconsider this comical. I have had enough jokes, good God! and want nomore farces, by the Eternal Father! I wish to eat when I am hungry, anddrink when I am thirsty: to gorge, sleep, and do nothing. I want tohave my turn now, and mean to be a bit of a millionnaire before I rot!"He walked up and down the room and added, "like the rest!"

  "What do you mean?" his wife asked.

  He shook his head, winked, and raised his voice like a street quack whois going to furnish a proof.

  "What I mean? Listen!"

  "Not so loud," said his wife, "if it is business which ought not to beoverheard."

  "Nonsense! by whom,--by the neighbor? I saw him go out just now.Besides, what does that long-legged ass listen to? And then, I tellyou I saw him go out." Still, by a species of instinct Jondrettelowered his voice, though not so low that his remarks escaped Marius. Afavorable circumstance was that the fallen snow deadened the sound ofthe vehicles on the boulevard. This is what Marius heard:--

  "Listen carefully. The Crœsus is trapped, or as good as trapped. Itis done, arranged, and I have seen the people. He will come at sixthis evening to bring the sixty francs, the vagabond! Did you noticehow I blabbed to him about my sixty francs, my landlord, my February4th? Why, it is not a quarter-day, the ass. Well, he will come atsix o'clock, and at that hour the neighbor has gone to dinner, andMother Bourgon is washing up dishes in town, so there will be no onein the house. The neighbor never comes in before eleven o'clock. Thelittle ones will be on the watch, you will help us, and he will make asacrifice."

  "And suppose he does not?" the wife asked.

  Jondrette made a sinister gesture, and said, "We will do it for him."

  And he burst into a laugh: it was the first time that Marius saw himlaugh, and this laugh was cold and gentle, and produced a shudder.Jondrette opened a cupboard near the fire-place, and took out an oldcap, which he put on his head, after brushing it with his cuff.

  "Now," he said, "I am going out, for I have some more people to see,good men. I shall be away as short a time as possible, for it is afamous affair; and do you keep house."

  And he stood thoughtfully with his hands in his trousers' pockets andsuddenly exclaimed,--

  "Do you know that it is very lucky he did not recognize me, for if hehad done so he would not have returned, and would have slipped fromus. It was my beard that saved us,--my romantic beard, my pretty littlebeard."

  And he laughed again. He went to the window; the snow was stillfalling, and striping the gray sky.

  "What filthy weather!" he said.

  Then he buttoned up his great-coat.

  "The skin is too big, but no matter," he added. "It was devilish luckythat the old villain left it for me, for had he not I could not havegone out, and the whole affair would have been spoiled. On what slightaccidents things depend!"

  And pulling his cap over his eyes, he went out, but had only gone ashort distance when the door opened again, and his sharp, intelligentface reappeared in the aperture.

  "I forgot," he said; "you will get a chafing-dish of charcoal ready."

  And he threw into his wife's apron the five-franc piece which the"philanthropist" left him.

  "How many bushels of charcoal?" the wife asked.

  "Two, at least."

  "That will cost thirty sous, and with the rest I will buy some grub."

  "Hang it, no!"

  "Why?"

  "Don't spend the five _balls."_

  "Why not?"

  "Because I have something to buy too."

  "What?"

  "Something."

  "How much do you want?"

  "Where is the nearest ironmonger's?"

  "In the Rue Mouffetard."

  "Ah, yes, at the corner of a street. I remember the shop."

  "But tell me how much you want for what you have to buy."

  "From fifty sous to three francs."

  "There won't be much left for dinner."

  "Don't bother about eating to-day; there is something better to do."

  "That's enough, my jewel."

  Jondrette closed the door again, and then Marius heard his steps ashe went along the passage and down the stairs. It struck one at thismoment from St. Médard's.

  CHAPTER XIII.

  PLOT AND COUNTERPLOT.

  Marius, dreamer though he was, possessed, as we have said, a firm andenergetic nature. His habits of solitary contemplation, by developingcompassion and sympathy within him, had perhaps diminished the powerof being irritated, but left intact the power of becoming indignant:he had the benevolence of a brahmin and the sternness of a judge, andwhile he pitied a toad he crushed a viper. At present he had a nestof vipers before him, and he said, "I must set my foot upon thesevillains." Not one of the enigmas which he hoped to see cleared up wassolved; on the contrary, they had become more dense, and he had learnedno more about the pretty girl of the Luxembourg and the man whom hecalled M. Leblanc, save that Jondrette knew them. Through the darkwords which had been uttered he only saw one thing distinctly, that asnare was preparing,--an obscure but terrible snare; that they both ranan imminent danger, she probably, and the father certainly; and that hemust save them, and foil the hideous combinations of the Jondrettes bydestroying their spider's web.

  He watched the woman for a moment; she had taken an old sheet-ironfurnace from the corner, and was rummaging among the scraps of oldiron. He got off the chest of drawers as gently as he could, andcareful not to make any noise. In his terror at what was preparing, andthe horror with which the Jondrettes filled him, he felt a species ofjoy at the idea that it might perhaps be in his power to render such aservice to her whom he loved. But what was he to do? Should he warn themenaced persons? Where was he to find them? for he did not know theiraddress. They had reappeared to him momentarily, and then plunged againinto the immense profundities of Paris. Should he wait for M. Leblancat the gate at the moment when he arrived that evening and warn him ofthe snare? But Jondrette and his comrades would see him on the watch.The place was deserted, they would be stronger than he, they would findmeans to get him out of the way, and the man whom Marius wished to savewould be lost. It had just struck one, and as the snare was laid forsix o'clock, Marius had five hours before him. There was only one thingto be done; he put on his best coat, tied a handkerchief round hisneck, took his hat, and went out, making no more noise than if he werewalking barefoot on moss; besides, the woman was still rummaging theold iron.

  Once outside the house, he turned into the Rue du Petit Banquier.About the middle of the street he found himself near a very low wall,which it was possible to bestride in some places, and which surroundedunoccupied ground. He was walking slowly, deep in thought as he was,and the snow deadened his footsteps, when all at once he heard voicestalking close to him. He turned his head, but the street was deserted;it was open day, and yet he distinctly heard the voices. He thoughtof looking over the wall, and really saw two men seated in the snow,and conversing in a low voice. They were strangers to him: one was abearded man in a blouse, and the other a hairy man in rags. The beardedman wore a Greek cap, while the other was bareheaded, and had snow inhis hair. By thrusting out his head over them Marius could hear thehairy man say to the other, with a nudge,--

  "With Patron Minette it cannot fail."

  "Do you think so?" asked the bearded man; and the hairy man added,--

  "It will be five hundred balls for each, and the worst that can happenis five years, six years, or ten at the most."

  The other replied with some hesitation, and shuddering under his Greekcap,--

  "That is a reality; and people must not go to meet things of that sort."

  "I tell you that the affair cannot fail," the hairy man continued."Father What's-his-name's trap will be all ready."

  Then they began talking of a melodrama which they had seen on theprevious evening at the Gaité.

  Marius w
alked on; but it seemed to him that the obscure remarks ofthese men, so strangely concealed behind this wall, and crouchingin the snow, must have some connection with Jondrette's abominablescheme; that must be the _affair_. He went toward the Faubourg St.Marceau, and asked at the first shop he came to where he could finda police commissary. He was told at No. 14, Rue de Pontoise, and heproceeded there. As he passed a baker's he bought a two-sous roll andate it, as he foresaw that he should not dine. On the way he renderedjustice to Providence. He thought that if he had not given the fivefrancs in the morning to the girl, he should have followed M. Leblanc'shackney coach and consequently known nothing. There would, in thatcase, have been no obstacle to Jondrettes ambuscade, and M. Leblancwould have been lost, and doubtless his daughter with him.

  CHAPTER XIV.

  A POLICE-AGENT GIVES A LAWYER TWO "KNOCK-ME-DOWNS."

  On reaching No. 14, Rue de Pontoise, he went up to the first floor andasked for the commissary.

  "He is not in at present," said a clerk, "but there is an inspector torepresent him. Will you speak to him? Is your business pressing?"

  "Yes," said Marius.

  The clerk led him to the commissary's office. A very tall man wasleaning here against the fender of a stove, and holding up with bothhands the skirts of a mighty coat with three capes. He had a squareface, thin and firm lips, thick grayish whiskers, and a look of turningyour pockets inside out. Of this look you might have said, not that itpenetrated, but that it searched. This man did not appear much lessferocious or formidable than Jondrette; for sometimes it is just asdangerous to meet the dog as the wolf.