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Updated: June 28, 2025
Fantine trembled at the sound of Javert's voice, and let go of the latch as a thief relinquishes the article which he has stolen. At the sound of Madeleine's voice she turned around, and from that moment forth she uttered no word, nor dared so much as to breathe freely, but her glance strayed from Madeleine to Javert, and from Javert to Madeleine in turn, according to which was speaking.
Zephine and Dahlia had their hair dressed in rolls. Listolier and Fameuil, who were engaged in discussing their professors, explained to Fantine the difference that existed between M. Delvincourt and M. Blondeau. Blachevelle seemed to have been created expressly to carry Favourite's single-bordered, imitation India shawl of Ternaux's manufacture, on his arm on Sundays.
The mayor could save Fantine from prison, he could not save her life; but before the unhappy woman died she had delivered a paper to Mr. Madeleine authorising him to take her child, and Mr. Madeleine had accepted the trust.
She was only sixteen, this sharp-witted little girl, and a beautiful blonde. She thought everything of me. Fantine was one of those women who do wrong in the most virtuous and touching manner. This is a peculiarity of French grisettes. You are an Englishman, and you don't understand. Learn, my friend, learn. Come to Paris and improve your morals. Fantine was the soul of modesty.
Supreme misery an occasion for obscenity. On arriving at the police station, which was a low room, warmed by a stove, with a glazed and grated door opening on the street, and guarded by a detachment, Javert opened the door, entered with Fantine, and shut the door behind him, to the great disappointment of the curious, who raised themselves on tiptoe, and craned their necks in front of the thick glass of the station-house, in their effort to see.
It was when Fantine lay dying in the hospital that Javert, who had quite decided in his own mind who M. Madeleine was, came to the mayor and asked to be dismissed from the service. "I have denounced you, M. le Maire, to the prefect of police at Paris as Jean Valjean, an ex-convict, who has been wanted for the robbery of a little Savoyard more than five years ago."
As the affair in the station-house had been bruited about, the post-mistress and some other persons who saw the letter before it was sent off, and who recognized Javert's handwriting on the cover, thought that he was sending in his resignation. M. Madeleine made haste to write to the Thenardiers. Fantine owed them one hundred and twenty francs.
We are hardened to that and we think we are meriting the approbation of angels when we start a rescue mission for her special class. How pure in the sight of God is poor Fantine when compared with the cowards who will not smash the mill of which she is the mere grist. Just so long as there is a cash consideration in her life must capitalism bear the burden of her sin!
Favourite shrugged her shoulders. "This Fantine is surprising. I am coming to take a look at her out of curiosity. She is dazzled by the simplest things. Suppose a case: I am a traveller; I say to the diligence, 'I will go on in advance; you shall pick me up on the quay as you pass. The diligence passes, sees me, halts, and takes me. That is done every day. You do not know life, my dear."
Everywhere, you might see the gaunt figures in their tattered jackets bending over the dingy pamphlets "Fantine," "Cosette," or "Marius," or "St. Denis," and the woes of "Jean Valjean," the old galley-slave, found an echo in the hearts of these brave soldiers, immured in the trenches and fettered by duty to their muskets or their cannon. Singular fortune of a writer! Happy M. Hugo!
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