Page 1357 - les-miserables

told me his name, but his beastly voice was so weak that I
didn’t hear. All I caught was Merci [thanks]. I’d rather have
had his name than his thanks. That would have helped me
to find him again. The picture that you see here, and which
was painted by David at Bruqueselles,—do you know what
it represents? It represents me. David wished to immortal-
ize that feat of prowess. I have that general on my back, and
I am carrying him through the grape-shot. There’s the his-
tory of it! That general never did a single thing for me; he
was no better than the rest! But none the less, I saved his life
at the risk of my own, and I have the certificate of the fact
in my pocket! I am a soldier of Waterloo, by all the furies!
And now that I have had the goodness to tell you all this,
let’s have an end of it. I want money, I want a deal of money,
I must have an enormous lot of money, or I’ll exterminate
you, by the thunder of the good God!’
Marius had regained some measure of control over his
anguish, and was listening. The last possibility of doubt had
just vanished. It certainly was the Thenardier of the will.
Marius shuddered at that reproach of ingratitude directed
against his father, and which he was on the point of so fa-
tally justifying. His perplexity was redoubled.
Moreover, there was in all these words of Thenardier, in
his accent, in his gesture, in his glance which darted flames
at every word, there was, in this explosion of an evil nature
disclosing everything, in that mixture of braggadocio and
abjectness, of pride and pettiness, of rage and folly, in that
chaos of real griefs and false sentiments, in that immodesty
of a malicious man tasting the voluptuous delights of vio-

1357