Page 895 - les-miserables

does not question a saint.’ M. Madeleine had preserved all
his prestige in Fauchelevent’s eyes. Only, from some words
which Jean Valjean had let fall, the gardener thought he
could draw the inference that M. Madeleine had probably
become bankrupt through the hard times, and that he was
pursued by his creditors; or that he had compromised him-
self in some political affair, and was in hiding; which last
did not displease Fauchelevent, who, like many of our peas-
ants of the North, had an old fund of Bonapartism about
him. While in hiding, M. Madeleine had selected the con-
vent as a refuge, and it was quite simple that he should wish
to remain there. But the inexplicable point, to which Fau-
chelevent returned constantly and over which he wearied
his brain, was that M. Madeleine should be there, and that
he should have that little girl with him. Fauchelevent saw
them, touched them, spoke to them, and still did not believe
it possible. The incomprehensible had just made its en-
trance into Fauchelevent’s hut. Fauchelevent groped about
amid conjectures, and could see nothing clearly but this:
‘M. Madeleine saved my life.’ This certainty alone was suf-
ficient and decided his course. He said to himself: ‘It is my
turn now.’ He added in his conscience: ‘M. Madeleine did
not stop to deliberate when it was a question of thrusting
himself under the cart for the purpose of dragging me out.’
He made up his mind to save M. Madeleine.
Nevertheless, he put many questions to himself and made
himself divers replies: ‘After what he did for me, would I
save him if he were a thief? Just the same. If he were an as-
sassin, would I save him? Just the same. Since he is a saint,

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