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Updated: May 5, 2025
Towards the middle of this year 1831, the old woman who waited on Marius told him that his neighbors, the wretched Jondrette family, had been turned out of doors. Marius, who passed nearly the whole of his days out of the house, hardly knew that he had any neighbors. "Why are they turned out?" he asked. "Because they do not pay their rent; they owe for two quarters." "How much is it?"
Three of the men, of whom Jondrette had said: "They are chimney-builders," had armed themselves from the pile of old iron, one with a heavy pair of shears, the second with weighing-tongs, the third with a hammer, and had placed themselves across the entrance without uttering a syllable. The old man had remained on the bed, and had merely opened his eyes.
Several minutes elapsed. Marius heard the lower door turn on its hinges; a heavy step mounted the staircase, and hastened along the corridor; the latch of the hovel was noisily lifted; it was Jondrette returning. Instantly, several voices arose. The whole family was in the garret. Only, it had been silent in the master's absence, like wolf whelps in the absence of the wolf. "It's I," said he.
Marius decided that the moment had now arrived when he must resume his post at his observatory. In a twinkling, and with the agility of his age, he had reached the hole in the partition. He looked. The interior of the Jondrette apartment presented a curious aspect, and Marius found an explanation of the singular light which he had noticed.
It was true that the light could not be produced by a candle. However, there was not a sound in the Jondrette quarters, not a soul was moving there, not a soul speaking, not a breath; the silence was glacial and profound, and had it not been for that light, he might have thought himself next door to a sepulchre. Marius softly removed his boots and pushed them under his bed.
The Jondrette woman had seated herself beside him. Marius decided that in a few seconds more the moment for intervention would arrive, and he raised his right hand towards the ceiling, in the direction of the corridor, in readiness to discharge his pistol.
The adorable young girl, whom Marius, in his heart, called "his Ursule," approached her hastily. "Poor, dear child!" said she. "You see, my beautiful young lady," pursued Jondrette "her bleeding wrist! It came through an accident while working at a machine to earn six sous a day. It may be necessary to cut off her arm." "Really?" said the old gentleman, in alarm.
And he burst out laughing. This was the first time Marius had seen him laugh. The laugh was cold and sweet, and provoked a shudder. Jondrette opened a cupboard near the fireplace, and drew from it an old cap, which he placed on his head, after brushing it with his sleeve. "Now," said he, "I'm going out. I have some more people that I must see. Good ones.
It appeared that the arrival of these men was what Jondrette had been waiting for. A rapid dialogue ensued between him and the man with the cudgel, the thin one. "Is everything ready?" said Jondrette. "Yes," replied the thin man. "Where is Montparnasse?" "The young principal actor stopped to chat with your girl." "Which?" "The eldest." "Is there a carriage at the door?" "Yes."
At first sight, this family presented no very special feature except its extreme destitution; the father, when he hired the chamber, had stated that his name was Jondrette.
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