Les miserables (Abridged) - Victor Hugo [114]
Sister Simplice herself was surprised at Monsieur Madeleine’s delay.
The clock struck six. Fantine did not appear to hear. She seemed no longer to pay attention to anything around her.
Sister Simplice sent a girl to inquire of the portress of the factory if the mayor had come in, and if he would not very soon come to the infirmary. The girl returned in a few minutes.
Fantine was still motionless, and appeared to be absorbed in her own thoughts.
The servant related in a whisper to Sister Simplice that the mayor had gone away that morning before six o‘clock in a little tilbury drawn by a white horse, cold as the weather was; that he went alone, without even a driver, that no one knew the road he had taken, that some said he had been seen to turn off by the road to Arras, that others were sure they had met him on the road to Paris. That when he went away he seemed, as usual, very kind, and that he simply said to the portress that he need not be expected that night.
While the two women were whispering, with their backs turned towards Fantine’s bed, the sister questioning, the servant conjecturing, Fantine, with that feverish vivacity of certain organic diseases, which unites the free movement of health with the frightful exhaustion of death, had risen to her knees on the bed, her shrivelled hands resting on the bolster, and with her head passing through the opening of the curtains, she listened. All at once she exclaimed:
“You are talking there of Monsieur Madeleine! why do you talk so low? what has he done? why does he not come?”
Her voice was so harsh and rough that the two women thought they heard the voice of a man; they turned towards her affrighted.
“Why don’t you answer?” cried Fantine.
The servant stammered out:
“The portress told me that he could not come to-day.”
“My child,” said the sister, “be calm, lie down again.”
Fantine, without changing her attitude, resumed with a loud voice, and in a tone at once piercing and imperious:
“He cannot come. Why not? You know the reason. You were whispering it there between you. I want to know.”
The servant whispered quickly in the nun’s ear: “Answer that he is busy with the City Council.”
Sister Simplice reddened slightly; it was a lie that the servant had proposed to her. On the other hand, it did seem to her that to tell the truth to the sick woman would doubtless be a terrible blow, and that it was dangerous in the state in which Fantine was. This blush did not last long. The sister turned her calm, sad eye upon Fantine, and said:
“The mayor has gone away.”
Fantine sprang up and sat upon her feet. Her eyes sparkled. A marvellous joy spread over that mournful face.
“Gone away!” she exclaimed. “He has gone for Cosette!”
Then she stretched her hands towards heaven, and her whole countenance became ineffable. Her lips moved; she was praying in a whisper.
When her prayer was ended: “My sister,” said she, “I am quite willing to lie down again, I will do whatever you wish; I was naughty just now, pardon me for having talked so loud; it is very bad to talk loud; I know it, my good sister, but see how happy I am. God is kind, Monsieur Madeleine is good; just think of it, that he has gone to Montfermeil for my little Cosette.”
She lay down again, helped the nun to arrange the pillow, and kissed a little silver cross which she wore at her neck, and which Sister Simplice had given her.
“My child,” said the sister, “try to rest now, and do not talk any more.”
Fantine took the sister’s hand between hers; they were moist; the sister was pained to feel it.
“He started this morning for Paris. Indeed he need not even go through Paris. Montfermeil is a little to the left in coming. You remember what he said yesterday, when I spoke to him about Cosette: Very soon, very soon!This is a surprise he has for me. You know he had me sign a letter to take her away from the Thénardiers. They will have nothing to say, will they? They will give up Cosette. Because they have their pay. The authorities would not let them keep a child