Les Miserables

his guest in the alcove, before a clean white bed.
The man set down the candlestick upon a small table.
"Come," said the bishop, "a good night's rest to you: to-morrow
morning, before you go, you shall have a cup of warm milk from our
cows."
"Thank you, Monsieur l'Abbe," said the man.
Scarcely had he pronounced these words of peace, when suddenly he
made a singular motion which would have chilled the two good women
of the house with horror, had they witnessed it. Even now it is hard
for us to understand what impulse he obeyed at that moment. Did he
intend to give a warning or to throw out a menace? Or was he simply
obeying a sort of instinctive impulse, obscure ever to himself? He
turned abruptly towards the old man, crossed his arms, and casting a
wild look upon his host, exclaimed in a harsh voice:
{FANTINE|BOOK_2ND|V ^paragraph 10}
"Ah, now, indeed! You lodge me in your house, as near you as that!"
He checked himself, and added, with a laugh, in which there was
something horrible:
"Have you reflected upon it? Who tells you that I am not a
murderer?"
The bishop responded:
"God will take care of that."
{FANTINE|BOOK_2ND|V ^paragraph 15}
Then with gravity, moving his lips like one praying or talking
raised two fingers of his right hand and blessed the man, who,
however, did not bow; and without turning his head or looking behind
him, went into his chamber.
When the alcove was occupied, a heavy serge curtain was drawn in the
oratory, concealing the altar. Before this curtain the bishop knelt as
he passed out, and offered a short prayer.
A moment afterwards he was walking in the garden, surrendering
mind and soul to a dreamy contemplation of these grand and
mysterious works of God, which night makes visible to the eye.
As to the man, he was so completely exhausted that he did not even
avail himself of the clean white sheets; he blew out the candle with
his nostril, after the manner of convicts, and fell on the bed,
dressed as he was, into a sound sleep.
Midnight struck as the bishop came back to his chamber.
{FANTINE|BOOK_2ND|V ^paragraph 20}
A few moments afterwards all in the little house slept.

{FANTINE|BOOK_2ND|VI
VI
JEAN VALJEAN
-
TOWARDS the middle of the night, Jean Valjean awoke.
Jean Valjean was born of a poor peasant family of Brie. In his
childhood he had not been taught to read: when he was grown up, he
chose the occupation of a pruner at Faverolles. His mother's name
was Jeanne Mathieu, his father's Jean Valjean or Vlajean, probably a
nickname, a contraction of Voila Jean.
Jean Valjean was of a thoughtful disposition, but not sad, which
is characteristic of affectionate natures. Upon the whole, however,
there was something torpid and insignificant, in the appearance at
least, of Jean Valjean. He had lost his parents when very young. His
mother died of malpractice in