Les Misérables, v. 3/5: Marius

by Victor Hugo

  "Now we can receive the philanthropist."

  CHAPTER VIII.

  A SUNBEAM IN THE GARRET.

  The elder girl walked up to her father and laid her hand in his.

  "Just feel how cold I am!" she said.

  "Stuff!" the father answered; "I am much colder than that."

  The mother cried impetuously,--

  "You always have everything more than others, even evil."

  "Off with you!" said the man.

  The mother, looked at by him in a certain way, held her tongue, andthere was a momentary silence in the den. The elder girl was carelesslyremoving the mud from the edge of her cloak, and her younger sistercontinued to sob. The mother had taken her head between her hands, andcovered it with kisses, while whispering,--

  "Pray do not go on so, my treasure; it will be nothing, so don't cry,or you will vex your father."

  "No," the father cried, "on the contrary, sob away, for that does good."

  Then he turned to the elder girl,--

  "Why, he is not coming! Suppose he were not to come! I should havebroken my pane, put out my fire, unseated my chair, and torn my shirtall for nothing."

  "And hurt the little one," the mother murmured.

  "Do you know," the father continued, "that it is infernally cold inthis devil's own garret? Suppose the man did not come! But no, he iskeeping us waiting, and says to himself, 'Well, they will wait mypleasure, they are sent into the world for that!' Oh, how I hate therich, and with what joy, jubilation, enthusiasm, and satisfaction wouldI strangle them all! All the rich, I say,--those pretended charitablemen who play the devout, attend Mass, keep in with the priests andbelieve themselves above us, and who come to humiliate us and bringus clothes! How they talk! They bring us old rubbish not worth foursous, and bread; but it is not _that_ I want, you pack of scoundrels,but money. Ah, money! Never! because they say that we would go anddrink, and that we are drunkards and idlers. And they--what are they,pray, and what have they been in their time? Thieves, for they couldnot have grown rich without that. Oh, society ought to be taken by thefour corners of a table-cloth and the whole lot thrown into the air!All would be broken, very possibly, but at any rate no one would haveanything, and that would be so much gained! But what is your humbugof a benevolent gentleman about? Will he come? Perhaps the ass hasforgotten the address. I will bet that the old brute--"

  At this moment there was a gentle tap at the door; the man rushedforward and opened it, while exclaiming with deep bows and smiles ofadoration,--

  "Come in, sir; deign to enter, my respected benefactor, as well as yourcharming daughter."

  A man of middle age and a young lady stood in the doorway; Marius hadnot left his post, and what he felt at this moment is beyond the humantongue.

  It was SHE; and any one who has loved knows the radiant meaningconveyed in the three letters that form the word SHE. It was certainlyshe, though Marius could hardly distinguish her through the luminousvapor which had suddenly spread over his eyes. It was the gentlecreature he had lost, the star which had gleamed on him for sixmonths; it was the forehead, the mouth,--the lovely mouth whichhad produced night by departing. The eclipse was over, and she nowreappeared,--reappeared in this darkness, in this attic, in this filthyden, in this horror. Marius trembled. What! it was she! The palpitationof his heart affected his sight, and he felt ready to burst into tears.What! he saw her again after seeking her so long! It seemed to him asif he had lost his soul and had just found it again. She was stillthe same, though perhaps a little paler; her delicate face was framedin a violet velvet bonnet, and her waist was hidden by a black satinpelisse; a glimpse of her little foot in a silk boot could be caughtunder her long dress. She was accompanied by M. Leblanc, and she walkedinto the room and placed a rather large parcel on the table. The eldergirl had withdrawn behind the door, and looked with a jealous eye atthe velvet bonnet, the satin pelisse, and the charming, happy face.

  CHAPTER IX.

  JONDRETTE ALMOST CRIES.

  The garret was so dark that persons who came into it felt much as ifthey were going into a cellar. The two new-comers, therefore, advancedwith some degree of hesitation, scarce distinguishing the vague formsaround them, while they were perfectly seen and examined by the eyesof the denizens in the attic, who were accustomed to this gloom. M.Leblanc walked up to Father Jondrette, with his sad and gentle smile,and said,--

  "You will find in this parcel, sir, new apparel, woollen stockings, andblankets."

  "Our angelic benefactor overwhelms us," Jondrette said, bowing tothe ground; then, bending down to the ear of his elder daughter, headded in a hurried whisper, while the two visitors were examining thislamentable interior,--

  "Did I not say so,--clothes, but no money? They are all alike. By theway, how was the letter to the old ass signed?"

  "Fabantou."

  "The actor,--all right."

  It was lucky that Jondrette asked this, for at the same moment M.Leblanc turned to him, and said with the air of a person who is tryingto remember the name,--

  "I see that you are much to be pitied, Monsieur--"

  "Fabantou," Jondrette quickly added.

  "Monsieur Fabantou; yes, that is it, I remember."

  "An actor, sir, who has been successful in his time."

  Here Jondrette evidently believed the moment arrived to trap hisphilanthropist, and he shouted in a voice which had some of the bombastof the country showman, and the humility of the professional beggar,--"A pupil of Talma, sir! I am a pupil of Talma! Fortune smiled uponme formerly, but now, alas! the turn of misfortune has arrived. Yousee, my benefactor, we have no bread, no fire. My poor children haveno fire. My sole chair without a seat! a pane of glass broken, in suchweather as this! my wife in bed, ill!"

  "Poor woman!" said M. Leblanc.

  "My child hurt," Jondrette added.

  The child, distracted by the arrival of the strangers, was staring atthe "young lady," and ceased sobbing.

  "Cry, I tell you; roar!" Jondrette whispered to her. At the same timehe squeezed her bad hand. All this was done with the talent of aconjurer. The little one uttered piercing cries, and the adorable girlwhom Marius called in his heart "his Ursule," eagerly went up to her.

  "Poor dear child!" she said.

  "You see, respected young lady," Jondrette continued, "her hand isbleeding. It is the result of an accident which happened to her whileworking at a factory to earn six sous a day. It is possible that herarm will have to be cut off."

  "Really?" the old gentleman said in alarm.

  The little girl, taking this remark seriously, began sobbing again herloudest.

  "Alas, yes, my benefactor!" the father answered.

  For some minutes past Jondrette had been looking at the"philanthropist" in a peculiar way, and while speaking seemed to bescrutinizing him attentively, as if trying to collect his remembrances.All at once, profiting by a moment during which the new-comers werequestioning the little girl about her injured hand, he passed close tohis wife, who was tying in her bed with a surprised and stupid air, andsaid to her in a hurried whisper,--

  "Look at that man!"

  Then he turned to M. Leblanc, and continued his lamentations.

  "Look, sir! my sole clothing consists of a chemise of my wife's, alltorn, in the heart of winter. I cannot go out for want of a coat, andif I had the smallest bit of a coat I would go and call on MademoiselleMars, who knows me, and is much attached to me. Does she still livein the Rue de la Tour des Dames? Do you know, sir, that we playedtogether in the provinces, and that I shared her laurels? Célimènewould come to my help, sir, and Elmire give alms to Belisarius. Butno, nothing, and not a halfpenny piece in the house! my wife ill,--nota son! my daughter dangerously injured,--not a son! My wife suffersfrom shortness of breath; it comes from her age, and then the nervoussystem is mixed up in it. She requires assistance, and so does mydaughter. But the physician and the apothecary, how are they to bepaid if I have not a farthing? I would kneel down before a penny, sir.You
see to what the arts are reduced! And do you know, my charmingyoung lady, and you my generous protector, who exhale virtue andgoodness, and who perfume the church where my poor child sees you dailywhen she goes to say her prayers,--for I am bringing up my daughtersreligiously, sir, and did not wish them to turn to the stage. Ah,the jades, let me see them trip! I do not jest, sir; I give themlectures on honor, morality, and virtue. Just ask them,--they must gostraight,--for they have a father. They are not wretched girls whobegin by having no family, and finish by marrying the public. Such agirl is Miss Nobody, and becomes Madame i All-the-World. There must benothing of that sort in the Fabantou family! I intend to educate themvirtuously, and they must be respectable, and honest, and believe inGod,--confound it! Well, sir, worthy sir, do you know what will happento-morrow? To-morrow is the fatal 4th of February, the last respitemy landlord has granted me, and if I do not pay my rent by to-night,my eldest daughter, myself, my wife with her fever, my child with herwound, will be all four of us turned out of here into the street,shelterless in the rain and snow. That is the state of the case, sir! Iowe four quarters,--a year's rent,--that is to say, sixty francs."

  Jondrette lied, for four quarters would only have been forty francs,and he could not owe four, as it was not six months since Marius hadpaid two for him. M. Leblanc took a five-franc piece from his pocketand threw it on the table. Jondrette had time to growl in his grown-updaughter's ear,--

  "The scamp! what does he expect me to do with his five francs? Theywill not pay for the chair and pane of glass! There's the result ofmaking an outlay!"

  In the mean while M. Leblanc had taken off a heavy brown coat, which hewore over his blue one, and thrown it on the back of a chair.

  "Monsieur Fabantou," he said, "I have only these five francs aboutme, but I will take my daughter home and return to-night. Is it notto-night that you have to pay?"

  Jondrette's face was lit up with a strange expression, and he hurriedlyanswered,--

  "Yes, respected sir, I must be with my landlord by eight o'clock."

  "I will be here by six, and bring you the sixty francs."

  "My benefactor!" Jondrette exclaimed wildly; and he added in awhisper,--

  "Look at him carefully, wife."

  M. Leblanc had given his arm to the lovely young lady, and was turningto the door.

  "Till this evening, my friends," he said.

  "At six o'clock?" Jondrette asked.

  "At six o'clock precisely."

  At this moment the overcoat left on the back of the chair caught theeye of the elder girl.

  "Sir," she said, "you are forgetting your greatcoat."

  Jondrette gave his daughter a crushing glance, accompanied by aformidable shrug of the shoulders, but M. Leblanc turned and repliedsmilingly,--

  "I do not forget it, I leave it."

  "Oh, my protector," said Jondrette, "my august benefactor, I am meltinginto tears! Permit me to conduct you to your coach."

  "If you go out," M. Leblanc remarked, "put on that overcoat, for it isreally very cold."

  Jondrette did not let this be said twice, but eagerly put on thebrown coat. Then they all three went out, Jondrette preceding the twostrangers.

  CHAPTER X.

  THE TARIFF OF CAB-FARES.

  Marius had lost nothing of all this scene, and yet in reality he hadseen nothing. His eyes remained fixed on the maiden, his heart had, soto speak, seized and entirely enfolded her from her first step intothe garret. During the whole time she had been there he had lived thatlife of ecstasy which suspends material perceptions and concentratesthe whole mind upon one point. He contemplated not the girl, but theradiance which was dressed in a satin pelisse and a velvet bonnet.Had the planet Sirius entered the room he would not have been moredazzled. While she was opening the parcel, and unfolding the clothesand blankets, questioning the sick mother kindly, and the littlewounded girl tenderly, he watched her every movement, and tried tohear her words. Though he knew her eyes, her forehead, her beauty, herwaist, and her walk, he did not know the sound of her voice. He fanciedthat he had caught a few words once at the Luxembourg, but he was notabsolutely sure. He would have given ten years of his life to hear her,and to carry off in his soul a little of this music; but all was lostin the lamentable braying of Jondrette's trumpet. This mingled a realanger with Marius's ravishment, and he devoured her with his eyes, forhe could not imagine that it was really this divine creature whom heperceived among these unclean beings in this monstrous den; he fanciedthat he saw a humming-bird among frogs.

  When she left the room he had but one thought,--to follow her, toattach himself to her trail, not to leave her till he knew where shelived, or at least not to lose her again after having so miraculouslyfound her. He leaped off the drawers, and seized his hat, but just ashe laid his hand on the latch and was going out a reflection arrestedhim; the passage was long, the staircase steep, Jondrette chattering,and M. Leblanc had doubtless not yet got into his coach again. If,turning in the passage or on the stairs, he were to perceive him,Marius, in this house, he would assuredly be alarmed, and find means toescape him again, and so all would be over for the second time. Whatwas to be done,--wait awhile? But during this delay the vehicle mightstart off. Marius was perplexed, but at length risked it, and left theroom. There was no one in the passage, and he ran to the stairs, and asthere was no one upon them he hurried down and reached the boulevardjust in time to see a hackney coach turning the corner of the Rue duPetit Banquier, on its road to Paris.

  Marius rushed in that direction, and on reaching the corner of theboulevard saw the hackney coach again rapidly rolling along the RueMouffetard; it was already some distance off, and he had no means ofovertaking it. Running after it was an impossibility; and besides, aman running at full speed after the vehicle would be seen from it, andthe father would recognize him. At this moment, by an extraordinaryand marvellous accident, Marius perceived a cab passing along theboulevard, empty. There was only one thing to be done,--get into thiscab and follow the hackney coach; that was sure, efficacious, andwithout danger. Marius made the driver a sign to stop, and shouted tohim, "By the hour!" Marius had no cravat on, he wore his old workingcoat, from which buttons were missing, and one of the plaits of hisshirt was torn. The driver stopped, winked, and held out to Marius hisleft hand as he gently rubbed his forefinger with his thumb.

  "What do you mean?" Marius asked.

  "Payment in advance," said the coachman.

  Marius remembered that he had only sixteen sous in his pocket.

  "How much is it?"

  "Forty sous."

  "I will pay on returning."

  The driver, in reply, whistled the air of La Palisse, and lashed hishorse. Marius watched the cab go off with a haggard look; for the wantof twenty-four sous he lost his joy, his happiness, his love! He fellback into night! He had seen, and was becoming blind again. He thoughtbitterly, and, we must add, with deep regret, of the five francs whichhe had given that very morning to the wretched girl. If he still hadthem, he would be saved, would emerge from limbo and darkness, and bedrawn from isolation, spleen, and widowhood; he would have reattachedthe black thread of his destiny to the beauteous golden thread whichhad just floated before his eyes only to be broken again! He returnedto his garret in despair. He might have said to himself that M. Leblanchad promised to return that evening, and that then he must contrive tofollow him better; but in his contemplation he had scarce heard him.

  Just as he was going up the stairs he noticed on the other side ofthe wall, and against the deserted wall of the Rue de la Barrière desGobelins, Jondrette, wrapped up in the "philanthropist's" overcoat, andconversing with one of those ill-looking men who are usually calledprowlers at the barrière; men with equivocal faces and suspicioussoliloquies, who look as if they entertain evil thoughts, and mostusually sleep by day, which leads to the supposition that they workat night. These two men, standing to talk in the snow, which wasfalling heavily, formed a group which a policeman would certainlyhave observed, but which
Marius scarce noticed. Still, though hispreoccupation was so painful, he could not help saying to himself thatthe man to whom Jondrette was talking was like a certain Panchaud,_alias_ Printanier, _alias_ Bigrenaille, whom Courfeyrac had oncepointed out to him, and who was regarded in the quarter as a verydangerous night-bird. This Panchaud afterwards figured in severalcriminal trials, and eventually became a celebrated villain, though atthis time he was only a famous villain. At the present day he is in atraditionary state among the bandits and burglars. He was the modeltoward the end of the last reign, and people used to talk about himin the Lion's den at La Force, at nightfall, at the hour when groupsassemble and converse in whispers. In this prison, and at the exactspot where the sewer, which served as the way of escape for the thirtyprisoners in 1843, opened, this name, PANCHAUD, might be seen daringlycut in the wall over the sewer, in one of his attempted escapes. In1832 the police already had their eye on him, but he had not yet fairlymade a start.

  CHAPTER XI.

  WRETCHEDNESS OFFERS HELP TO SORROW.

  Marius ascended the stairs slowly, and at the moment when he was goingto enter his cell he perceived behind him, in the passage, the elderof Jondrette's girls following him. This girl was odious in his sight,for it was she who had his five francs; but it was too late to ask themback from her, for both the hackney coach and the cab were now faraway. Besides, she would not return them to him. As for questioning herabout the abode of the persons who had been here just now, that wasuseless, and it was plain that she did not know, for the letter signedFabantou was addressed "To the benevolent gentleman of the church ofSt. Jacques du Haut-pas." Marius went into his room and threw the doorto after him, but it did not close; he turned and saw a hand in theaperture.