ss is counselling you badly; the hardest of all work
is thieving. Believe me, do not undertake that painful profession of
an idle man. It is not comfortable to become a rascal. It is less
disagreeable to be an honest man. Now go, and ponder on what I have said
to you. By the way, what did you want of me? My purse? Here it is."

And the old man, releasing Montparnasse, put his purse in the latter's
hand; Montparnasse weighed it for a moment, after which he allowed it to
slide gently into the back pocket of his coat, with the same mechanical
precaution as though he had stolen it.

All this having been said and done, the goodman turned his back and
tranquilly resumed his stroll.

"The blockhead!" muttered Montparnasse.

Who was this goodman? The reader has, no doubt, already divined.

Montparnasse watched him with amazement, as he disappeared in the dusk.
This contemplation was fatal to him.

While the old man was walking away, Gavroche drew near.

Gavroche had assured himself, with a sidelong glance, that Father Mabeuf
was still sitting on his bench, probably sound asleep. Then the gamin
emerged from his thicket, and began to crawl after Montparnasse in the
dark, as the latter stood there motionless. In this manner he came up
to Montparnasse without being seen or heard, gently insinuated his hand
into the back pocket of that frock-coat of fine black cloth, seized the
purse, withdrew his hand, and having recourse once more to his crawling,
he slipped away like an adder through the shadows. Montparnasse, who
had no reason to be on his guard, and who was engaged in thought for the
first time in his life, perceived nothing. When Gavroche had once more
attained the point where Father Mabeuf was, he flung the purse over the
hedge, and fled as fast as his legs would carry him.

The purse fell on Father Mabeuf's foot. This commotion roused him.

He bent over and picked up the purse.

He did not understand in the least, and opened it.

The purse had two compartments; in one of them there was some small
change; in the other lay six napoleons.

M. Mabeuf, in great alarm, referred the matter to his housekeeper.

"That has fallen from heaven," said Mother Plutarque.

BOOK FIFTH.--THE END OF WHICH DOES NOT RESEMBLE THE BEGINNING

CHAPTER I--SOLITUDE AND THE BARRACKS COMBINED

Cosette's grief, which had been so poignant and lively four or five
months previously, had, without her being conscious of the fact,