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Updated: July 18, 2025
But they remember you! You are an ingrate!" The events of which we have just beheld the reverse side, so to speak, had come about in the simplest possible manner. When Jean Valjean, on the evening of the very day when Javert had arrested him beside Fantine's death-bed, had escaped from the town jail of M. sur M., the police had supposed that he had betaken himself to Paris.
Sadness, uneasiness, anxiety, depression, this fresh misfortune of being forced to flee by night, to seek a chance refuge in Paris for Cosette and himself, the necessity of regulating his pace to the pace of the child all this, without his being aware of it, had altered Jean Valjean's walk, and impressed on his bearing such senility, that the police themselves, incarnate in the person of Javert, might, and did in fact, make a mistake.
Then she beheld a most unprecedented thing, a thing so unprecedented that nothing equal to it had appeared to her even in the blackest deliriums of fever. She beheld Javert, the police spy, seize the mayor by the collar; she saw the mayor bow his head. It seemed to her that the world was coming to an end. Javert had, in fact, grasped Jean Valjean by the collar.
Here is the true state of the case: I was passing through the square just as you were leading this woman away; there were still groups of people standing about, and I made inquiries and learned everything; it was the townsman who was in the wrong and who should have been arrested by properly conducted police." Javert retorted: "This wretch has just insulted Monsieur le Maire."
Marius was laid upon the back seat, and Javert seated himself on the front seat beside Jean Valjean. The door slammed, and the carriage drove rapidly away, ascending the quays in the direction of the Bastille. They quitted the quays and entered the streets. The coachman, a black form on his box, whipped up his thin horses. A glacial silence reigned in the carriage.
Just as he was finishing the article, which interested him; a name, the name of Jean Valjean, attracted his attention at the bottom of a page. The paper announced that the convict Jean Valjean was dead, and published the fact in such formal terms that Javert did not doubt it. He confined himself to the remark, "That's a good entry." Then he threw aside the paper, and thought no more about it.
Jean Valjean followed him with his eyes: A few minutes later, Javert turned round and shouted to Jean Valjean: "You annoy me. Kill me, rather." Javert himself did not notice that he no longer addressed Jean Valjean as "thou." "Be off with you," said Jean Valjean. Javert retreated slowly. A moment later he turned the corner of the Rue des Precheurs.
When the corpse passed near Javert, who was still impassive, Enjolras said to the spy: "It will be your turn presently!" During all this time, Little Gavroche, who alone had not quitted his post, but had remained on guard, thought he espied some men stealthily approaching the barricade. All at once he shouted: "Look out!"
He did not disturb himself on Javert's account. He could not help thinking of poor Fantine, and it suited him to be glacial in his manner. Javert bestowed a respectful salute on the mayor, whose back was turned to him. The mayor did not look at him, but went on annotating this docket. Javert advanced two or three paces into the study, and halted, without breaking the silence.
Suddenly a man of lofty stature emerged vivaciously from the crowd, seized the woman by her satin bodice, which was covered with mud, and said to her, "Follow me!" The woman raised her head; her furious voice suddenly died away. Her eyes were glassy; she turned pale instead of livid, and she trembled with a quiver of terror. She had recognized Javert.
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