ll, five hundred and eighty-four thousand francs.

"This is a fine book," said M. Gillenormand.

"Five hundred and eighty-four thousand francs!" murmured the aunt.

"This arranges things well, does it not, Mademoiselle Gillenormand
senior?" said the grandfather. "That devil of a Marius has ferreted out
the nest of a millionaire grisette in his tree of dreams! Just trust
to the love affairs of young folks now, will you! Students find
studentesses with six hundred thousand francs. Cherubino works better
than Rothschild."

"Five hundred and eighty-four thousand francs!" repeated Mademoiselle
Gillenormand, in a low tone. "Five hundred and eighty-four! one might as
well say six hundred thousand!"

As for Marius and Cosette, they were gazing at each other while this was
going on; they hardly heeded this detail.

CHAPTER V--DEPOSIT YOUR MONEY IN A FOREST RATHER THAN WITH A NOTARY

The reader has, no doubt, understood, without necessitating a lengthy
explanation, that Jean Valjean, after the Champmathieu affair, had been
able, thanks to his first escape of a few days' duration, to come to
Paris and to withdraw in season, from the hands of Laffitte, the
sum earned by him, under the name of Monsieur Madeleine, at
Montreuil-sur-Mer; and that fearing that he might be recaptured,--which
eventually happened--he had buried and hidden that sum in the forest
of Montfermeil, in the locality known as the Blaru-bottom. The sum,
six hundred and thirty thousand francs, all in bank-bills, was not very
bulky, and was contained in a box; only, in order to preserve the
box from dampness, he had placed it in a coffer filled with chestnut
shavings. In the same coffer he had placed his other treasures, the
Bishop's candlesticks. It will be remembered that he had carried off
the candlesticks when he made his escape from Montreuil-sur-Mer. The man
seen one evening for the first time by Boulatruelle, was Jean Valjean.
Later on, every time that Jean Valjean needed money, he went to get it
in the Blaru-bottom. Hence the absences which we have mentioned. He had
a pickaxe somewhere in the heather, in a hiding-place known to himself
alone. When he beheld Marius convalescent, feeling that the hour was at
hand, when that money might prove of service, he had gone to get it;
it was he again, whom Boulatruelle had seen in the woods, but on
this occasion, in the morning instead of in the evening. Boulatreulle
inherited his pickaxe.

The actual sum