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Updated: May 5, 2025
They arose to obey. The mother stammered: "With her injured hand." "The air will do it good," said Jondrette. "Be off." It was plain that this man was of the sort to whom no one offers to reply. The two girls departed. At the moment when they were about to pass through the door, the father detained the elder by the arm, and said to her with a peculiar accent:
The other two seemed to be young; one wore a beard, the other wore his hair long. None of them had on shoes; those who did not wear socks were barefooted. Jondrette noticed that M. Leblanc's eye was fixed on these men. "They are friends. They are neighbors," said he. "Their faces are black because they work in charcoal. They are chimney-builders.
"Excuse me; what were you saying, M. Fabantou?" "I was telling you, sir, and dear protector," replied Jondrette placing his elbows on the table and contemplating M. Leblanc with steady and tender eyes, not unlike the eyes of the boa-constrictor, "I was telling you, that I have a picture to sell." A slight sound came from the door.
"Who is that man?" said M. Leblanc. "Him?" ejaculated Jondrette, "he's a neighbor of mine. Don't pay any attention to him." The neighbor was a singular-looking individual. However, manufactories of chemical products abound in the Faubourg Saint-Marceau. Many of the workmen might have black faces. Besides this, M. Leblanc's whole person was expressive of candid and intrepid confidence. He went on:
A second man had just entered and seated himself on the bed, behind Jondrette. Like the first, his arms were bare, and he had a mask of ink or lampblack. Although this man had, literally, glided into the room, he had not been able to prevent M. Leblanc catching sight of him. "Don't mind them," said Jondrette, "they are people who belong in the house.
They are all alike! By the way, how was the letter to that old blockhead signed?" "Fabantou," replied the girl. "The dramatic artist, good!" It was lucky for Jondrette, that this had occurred to him, for at the very moment, M. Leblanc turned to him, and said to him with the air of a person who is seeking to recall a name: "I see that you are greatly to be pitied, Monsieur "
In the meanwhile, the agents had caught sight of the drunken man asleep behind the door, and were shaking him: He awoke, stammering: "Is it all over, Jondrette?" "Yes," replied Javert. The six pinioned ruffians were standing, and still preserved their spectral mien; all three besmeared with black, all three masked. "Keep on your masks," said Javert.
At that moment, the overcoat lying on the chair caught the eye of the elder Jondrette girl. "You are forgetting your coat, sir," said she. Jondrette darted an annihilating look at his daughter, accompanied by a formidable shrug of the shoulders. M. Leblanc turned back and said, with a smile: "I have not forgotten it, I am leaving it."
In 1832, the police already had their eye on him, but he had not as yet made a serious beginning. Marius ascended the stairs of the hovel with slow steps; at the moment when he was about to re-enter his cell, he caught sight of the elder Jondrette girl following him through the corridor.
The two new-comers advanced, therefore, with a certain hesitation, being hardly able to distinguish the vague forms surrounding them, while they could be clearly seen and scrutinized by the eyes of the inhabitants of the garret, who were accustomed to this twilight. M. Leblanc approached, with his sad but kindly look, and said to Jondrette the father:
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