nger. I have been walking since sunrise. I
have travelled twelve leagues. I pay. I wish to eat."

"I have nothing," said the landlord.

The man burst out laughing, and turned towards the fireplace and the
stoves: "Nothing! and all that?"

"All that is engaged."

"By whom?"

"By messieurs the wagoners."

"How many are there of them?"

"Twelve."

"There is enough food there for twenty."

"They have engaged the whole of it and paid for it in advance."

The man seated himself again, and said, without raising his voice, "I am
at an inn; I am hungry, and I shall remain."

Then the host bent down to his ear, and said in a tone which made him
start, "Go away!"

At that moment the traveller was bending forward and thrusting some
brands into the fire with the iron-shod tip of his staff; he turned
quickly round, and as he opened his mouth to reply, the host gazed
steadily at him and added, still in a low voice: "Stop! there's enough
of that sort of talk. Do you want me to tell you your name? Your name is
Jean Valjean. Now do you want me to tell you who you are? When I saw you
come in I suspected something; I sent to the town-hall, and this was the
reply that was sent to me. Can you read?"

So saying, he held out to the stranger, fully unfolded, the paper which
had just travelled from the inn to the town-hall, and from the town-hall
to the inn. The man cast a glance upon it. The landlord resumed after a
pause.

"I am in the habit of being polite to every one. Go away!"

The man dropped his head, picked up the knapsack which he had deposited
on the ground, and took his departure.

He chose the principal street. He walked straight on at a venture,
keeping close to the houses like a sad and humiliated man. He did not
turn round a single time. Had he done so, he would have seen the host
of the Cross of Colbas standing on his threshold, surrounded by all
the guests of his inn, and all the passers-by in the street, talking
vivaciously, and pointing him out with his finger; and, from the glances
of terror and distrust cast by the group, he might have divined that his
arrival would speedily become an event for the whole town.

He saw nothing of all this. People who are crushed do not look behind
them. They know but too well the evil fate which follows them.

Thus he proceeded for some time, walking on without ceasing, traversing
at random streets of which he knew nothing, forgetful of his fatigue,
as is often the ca