We will go and get the child.'
'Ah！'said Fauchelevent，'so there is a child？'
He added not a word further，and followed Jean Valjean as a dog follows his master.
Less than half an hour afterwards Cosette，who had grown rosy again before the flame of a good fire，was lying asleep in the old gardener's bed.
Jean Valjean had put on his cravat and coat once more；his hat，which he had flung over the wall，had been found and picked up.
While Jean Valjean was putting on his coat，Fauchelevent had removed the bell and kneecap，which now hung on a nail beside a vintage basket that adorned the wall.
The two men were warming themselves with their elbows resting on a table upon which Fauchelevent had placed a bit of cheese，black bread，a bottle of wine，and two glasses，and the old man was saying to Jean Valjean，as he laid his hand on the latter's knee：
'Ah！
Father Madeleine！You did not recognize me immediately；you save people's lives，and then you forget them！
That is bad！
But they remember you！You are an ingrate！'
BOOK FIFTH.——FOR A BLACK HUNT，A MUTE PACK
Ⅹ WHICH EXPLAINS HOW JAVERT GOT ON THE SCENT
The events of which we have just beheld the reverse side，so to speak，had come about in the simplest possible manner.
When Jean Valjean，on the evening of the very day when Javert had arrested him beside Fantine's death-bed，had escaped from the town jail of M.sur M.，the police had supposed that he had betaken himself to Paris.
Paris is a maelstrom where everything is lost，and everything disappears in this belly of the world，as in the belly of the sea.
No forest hides a man as does that crowd.Fugitives of every sort know this.
They go to Paris as to an abyss；there are gulfs which save.
The police know it also，and it is in Paris that they seek what they have lost elsewhere.They sought the ex-mayor of M.sur M.Javert was summoned to Paris to throw light on their researches.
Javert had，in fact，rendered powerful assistance in the recapture of Jean Valjean.Javert's zeal and intelligence on that occasion had been remarked by M.Chabouillet，secretary of the Prefecture under Comte Angles.M.Chabouillet，who had，moreover，already been Javert's patron，had the inspector of M.sur M.attached to the police force of Paris.There Javert rendered himself useful in divers and，though the word may seem strange for such services，honorable manners.
He no longer thought of Jean Valjean，——the wolf of to-day causes these dogs who are always on the chase to forget the wolf of yesterday，——when，in December，1823，he read a newspaper，he who never read newspapers；but Javert，a monarchical man，had a desire to know the particulars of the triumphal entry of the'Prince Generalissimo'into Bayonne.Just as he was finishing the article，which interested him；a name，the name of Jean Valjean，attracted his attention at the bottom of a page.
The paper announced that the convict Jean Valjean was dead，and published the fact in such formal terms that Javert did not doubt it.
He confined himself to the remark，'That's a good entry.'Then he threw aside the paper，and thought no more about it.
Some time afterwards，it chanced that a police report was transmitted from the prefecture of the Seine-et-Oise to the prefecture of police in Paris，concerning the abduction of a child，which had taken place，under peculiar circumstances，as it was said，in the commune of Montfermeil.
A little girl of seven or eight years of age，the report said，who had been intrusted by her mother to an inn-keeper of that neighborhood，had been stolen by a stranger；this child answered to the name of Cosette，and was the daughter of a girl named Fantine，who had died in the hospital，it was not known where or when.
This report came under Javert's eye and set him to thinking.
The name of Fantine was well known to him.
He remembered that Jean Valjean had made him，Javert，burst into laughter，by asking him for a respite of three days，for the purpose of going to fetch that creature's child.
He recalled the fact that Jean Valjean had been arrested in Paris at the very moment when he was stepping into the coach for Montfermeil.
Some signs had made him suspect at the time that this was the second occasion of his entering that coach，and that he had already，on the previous day，made an excursion to the neighborhood of that village，for he had not been seen in the village itself.What had he been intending to do in that region of Montfermeil？It could not even be surmised.
Javert understood it now.Fantine's daughter was there.
Jean Valjean was going there in search of her.
And now this child had been stolen by a stranger！Who could that stranger be？
Could it be Jean Valjean？
But Jean Valjean was dead.
Javert，without saying anything to anybody，took the coach from the Pewter Platter，Cul-de-Sac de la Planchette，and made a trip to Montfermeil.
He expected to find a great deal of light on the subject there；he found a great deal of obscurity.
For the first few days the Thenardiers had chattered in their rage.The disappearance of the Lark had created a sensation in the village.He immediately obtained numerous versions of the story，which ended in the abduction of a child.
Hence the police report.
But their first vexation having passed off，Thenardier，with his wonderful instinct，had very quickly comprehended that it is never advisable to stir up the prosecutor of the Crown，and that his complaints with regard to the abduction of Cosette would have as their first result to fix upon himself，and upon many dark affairs which he had on hand，the glittering eye of justice.
The last thing that owls desire is to have a candle brought to them.
