Mademoiselle Baptistine has so often narrated what passed at the episcopal residence that evening，that there are many people now living who still recall the most minute details.
At the moment when the Bishop entered，Madame Magloire was talking with considerable vivacity.
She was haranguing Mademoiselle Baptistine on a subject which was familiar to her and to which the Bishop was also accustomed.
The question concerned the lock upon the entrance door.
It appears that while procuring some provisions for supper，Madame Magloire had heard things in divers places.
People had spoken of a prowler of evil appearance；a suspicious vagabond had arrived who must be somewhere about the town，and those who should take it into their heads to return home late that night might be subjected to unpleasant encounters.
The police was very badly organized，moreover，because there was no love lost between the Prefect and the Mayor，who sought to injure each other by making things happen.It behooved wise people to play the part of their own police，and to guard themselves well，and care must be taken to duly close，bar and barricade their houses，and to fasten the doors well.
Madame Magloire emphasized these last words；but the Bishop had just come from his room，where it was rather cold.
He seated himself in front of the fire，and warmed himself，and then fell to thinking of other things.
He did not take up the remark dropped with design by Madame Magloire.
She repeated it.
Then Mademoiselle Baptistine，desirous of satisfying Madame Magloire without displeasing her brother，ventured to say timidly：——
'Did you hear what Madame Magloire is saying，brother？'
'I have heard something of it in a vague way，'replied the Bishop.Then half-turning in his chair，placing his hands on his knees，and raising towards the old servant woman his cordial face，which so easily grew joyous，and which was illuminated from below by the firelight，——'Come，what is the matter？
What is the matter？Are we in any great danger？'
Then Madame Magloire began the whole story afresh，exaggerating it a little without being aware of the fact.
It appeared that a Bohemian，a bare-footed vagabond，a sort of dangerous mendicant，was at that moment in the town.
He had presented himself at Jacquin Labarre's to obtain lodgings，but the latter had not been willing to take him in.
He had been seen to arrive by the way of the boulevard Gassendi and roam about the streets in the gloaming.A gallows-bird with a terrible face.
'Really！'said the Bishop.
This willingness to interrogate encouraged Madame Magloire；it seemed to her to indicate that the Bishop was on the point of becoming alarmed；she pursued triumphantly：——
'Yes，Monseigneur.
That is how it is.
There will be some sort of catastrophe in this town to-night.Every one says so.
And withal，the police is so badly regulated'（a useful repetition）。'The idea of living in a mountainous country，and not even having lights in the streets at night！
One goes out.
Black as ovens，indeed！And I say，Monseigneur，and Mademoiselle there says with me——'
'I，'interrupted his sister，'say nothing.
What my brother does is well done.'
Madame Magloire continued as though there had been no protest：——
'We say that this house is not safe at all；that if Monseigneur will permit，I will go and tell Paulin Musebois，the locksmith，to come and replace the ancient locks on the doors；we have them，and it is only the work of a moment；for I say that nothing is more terrible than a door which can be opened from the outside with a latch by the first passer-by；and I say that we need bolts，Monseigneur，if only for this night；moreover，Monseigneur has the habit of always sayingcome in'；and besides，even in the middle of the night，O mon Dieu！there is no need to ask permission.'
At that moment there came a tolerably violent knock on the door.
'Come in，'said the Bishop.
Ⅲ THE HEROISM OF PASSIVE OBEDIENCE.
The door opened.
It opened wide with a rapid movement，as though some one had given it an energetic and resolute push.
A man entered.
We already know the man.
It was the wayfarer whom we have seen wandering about in search of shelter.
He entered，advanced a step，and halted，leaving the door open behind him.
He had his knapsack on his shoulders，his cudgel in his hand，a rough，audacious，weary，and violent expression in his eyes.
The fire on the hearth lighted him up.
He was hideous.It was a sinister apparition.
Madame Magloire had not even the strength to utter a cry.She trembled，and stood with her mouth wide open.
Mademoiselle Baptistine turned round，beheld the man entering，and half started up in terror；then，turning her head by degrees towards the fireplace again，she began to observe her brother，and her face became once more profoundly calm and serene.
The Bishop fixed a tranquil eye on the man.
As he opened his mouth，doubtless to ask the new-comer what he desired，the man rested both hands on his staff，directed his gaze at the old man and the two women，and without waiting for the Bishop to speak，he said，in a loud voice：——
See here.
My name is Jean Valjean.
I am a convict from the galleys.I have passed nineteen years in the galleys.
I was liberated four days ago，and am on my way to Pontarlier，which is my destination.I have been walking for four days since I left Toulon.
I have travelled a dozen leagues to-day on foot.
This evening，when I arrived in these parts，I went to an inn，and they turned me out，because of my yellow passport，which I had shown at the town-hall.I had to do it.
I went to an inn.
They said to me，Be off，'at both places.
No one would take me.
I went to the prison；the jailer would not admit me.
I went into a dog's kennel；the dog bit me and chased me off，as though he had been a man.One would have said that he knew who I was.
I went into the fields，intending to sleep in the open air，beneath the stars.
There were no stars.
I thought it was going to rain，and I re-entered the town，to seek the recess of a doorway.
