aculously escaped from Javert. These two apartments were very
pitiable, poor in appearance, and in two quarters which were far remote
from each other, the one in the Rue de l'Ouest, the other in the Rue de
l'Homme Arme.

He went from time to time, now to the Rue de l'Homme Arme, now to the
Rue de l'Ouest, to pass a month or six weeks, without taking Toussaint.
He had himself served by the porters, and gave himself out as a
gentleman from the suburbs, living on his funds, and having a little
temporary resting-place in town. This lofty virtue had three domiciles
in Paris for the sake of escaping from the police.

CHAPTER II--JEAN VALJEAN AS A NATIONAL GUARD

However, properly speaking, he lived in the Rue Plumet, and he had
arranged his existence there in the following fashion:--

Cosette and the servant occupied the pavilion; she had the big
sleeping-room with the painted pier-glasses, the boudoir with the gilded
fillets, the justice's drawing-room furnished with tapestries and vast
arm-chairs; she had the garden. Jean Valjean had a canopied bed of
antique damask in three colors and a beautiful Persian rug purchased in
the Rue du Figuier-Saint-Paul at Mother Gaucher's, put into Cosette's
chamber, and, in order to redeem the severity of these magnificent
old things, he had amalgamated with this bric-a-brac all the gay and
graceful little pieces of furniture suitable to young girls, an etagere,
a bookcase filled with gilt-edged books, an inkstand, a blotting-book,
paper, a work-table incrusted with mother of pearl, a silver-gilt
dressing-case, a toilet service in Japanese porcelain. Long damask
curtains with a red foundation and three colors, like those on the
bed, hung at the windows of the first floor. On the ground floor, the
curtains were of tapestry. All winter long, Cosette's little house was
heated from top to bottom. Jean Valjean inhabited the sort of porter's
lodge which was situated at the end of the back courtyard, with a
mattress on a folding-bed, a white wood table, two straw chairs, an
earthenware water-jug, a few old volumes on a shelf, his beloved valise
in one corner, and never any fire. He dined with Cosette, and he had a
loaf of black bread on the table for his own use.

When Toussaint came, he had said to her: "It is the young lady who is
the mistress of this house."--"And you, monsieur?" Toussaint replied in
amazement.--"I am a much better thing than the master, I am the father."

Cosette h