“Set this woman at liberty,” he underwent a sort of intoxication of amazement; thought and word failed him equally; the sum total of possible astonishment had been exceeded in his case.
He remained mute.
The words had produced no less strange an effect on Fantine.
She raised her bare arm, and clung to the damper of the stove, like a person who is reeling.
Nevertheless, she glanced about her, and began to speak in a low voice, as though talking to herself:—
“At liberty!
I am to be allowed to go!
I am not to go to prison for six months!
Who said that?
It is not possible that any one could have said that.
I did not hear aright.
It cannot have been that monster of a mayor!
Was it you, my good Monsieur Javert, who said that I was to be set free?
Oh, see here! I will tell you about it, and you will let me go.
That monster of a mayor, that old blackguard of a mayor, is the cause of all.
Just imagine, Monsieur Javert, he turned me out! all because of a pack of rascally women, who gossip in the workroom.
If that is not a horror, what is?
To dismiss a poor girl who is doing her work honestly!
Then I could no longer earn enough, and all this misery followed.
In the first place, there is one improvement which these gentlemen of the police ought to make, and that is, to prevent prison contractors from wronging poor people.
I will explain it to you, you see: you are earning twelve sous at shirt-making, the price falls to nine sous; and it is not enough to live on.
Then one has to become whatever one can.
As for me, I had my little Cosette, and I was actually forced to become a bad woman.
Now you understand how it is that that blackguard of a mayor caused all the mischief.
After that I stamped on that gentleman’s hat in front of the officers’ cafe; but he had spoiled my whole dress with snow.
We women have but one silk dress for evening wear.
You see that I did not do wrong deliberately—truly, Monsieur Javert; and everywhere I behold women who are far more wicked than I, and who are much happier.
O Monsieur Javert! it was you who gave orders that I am to be set free, was it not?
Make inquiries, speak to my landlord; I am paying my rent now; they will tell you that I am perfectly honest.
Ah! my God!
I beg your pardon; I have unintentionally touched the damper of the stove, and it has made it smoke.”
M. Madeleine listened to her with profound attention.
While she was speaking, he fumbled in his waistcoat, drew out his purse and opened it.
It was empty.
He put it back in his pocket. He said to Fantine,
“How much did you say that you owed?”
Fantine, who was looking at Javert only, turned towards him:—
“Was I speaking to you?”
Then, addressing the soldiers:—
“Say, you fellows, did you see how I spit in his face?
Ah! you old wretch of a mayor, you came here to frighten me, but I’m not afraid of you.
I am afraid of Monsieur Javert. I am afraid of my good Monsieur Javert!”
So saying, she turned to the inspector again:—
“And yet, you see, Mr. Inspector, it is necessary to be just.
I understand that you are just, Mr. Inspector; in fact, it is perfectly simple: a man amuses himself by putting snow down a woman’s back, and that makes the officers laugh; one must divert themselves in some way; and we—well, we are here for them to amuse themselves with, of course!
And then, you, you come; you are certainly obliged to preserve order, you lead off the woman who is in the wrong; but on reflection, since you are a good man, you say that I am to be set at liberty; it is for the sake of the little one, for six months in prison would prevent my supporting my child.
‘Only, don’t do it again, you hussy!’
Oh! I won’t do it again, Monsieur Javert!
They may do whatever they please to me now; I will not stir.
But to-day, you see, I cried because it hurt me. I was not expecting that snow from the gentleman at all; and then as I told you, I am not well; I have a cough; I seem to have a burning ball in my stomach, and the doctor tells me,