He had seen him before, he was certain of that. Even before seeing him had had his suspicions - hardly a common name, Javert. He had been younger the first time, gaucher, black haired and with a less painful southern accent. He had also not had a child nor shown any signs of ever having one. But that was nearly twenty years ago now, and a lot could happen to a man in twenty years - surely he himself was proof of that. Had the new Inspector of Police felt the same stirrings of recognition, he wondered. Or maybe he was simply being ridiculous. Madeleine chuckled softly to himself, uncommon name or not there had to be more than one Javert in France.
Still, he had to see him again and now while his first impression of things was still fresh. Then he would know one way or the other. Madeleine began to prepare himself to go out until his foreman entered the office and informed him that Inspector Javert had come to see the factory as arranged. M Madeleine smiled at the workings of Providence - how could he have forgotten?
Having been abandoned by the foreman, Javert waited on the factory floor for M Madeleine to appear. The factory seemed prosperous and efficient, as did the rest of the town with its hospital, two schools and old peoples' home. A most happy and fortunate town - and it was all due to M Madeleine. Yet Javert could not bring himself to like or trust this man. He esteemed him as a rich and respectable citizen and the soon to be mayor. He was able to appreciate both his robust business sense and the tremendous service he had rendered the town, but for the man himself he could feel no warmth. There were two reason for this. Firstly, his kindness was of the indiscriminate sort that Javert particularly disliked - he seemed to make no distinction at all between cases that were deserving and those that were not. Secondly, there was something indefinable suspicious about the man. Javert had the nagging feeling that he had seen Madeleine before, and most of the people Javert had seen before were worthy of suspicion
"Ah, Monsieur L'Inspecteur, delighted to see you"
"Monsieur Madeleine." Javert bowed deeply.
The two men began to walk, Madeline explaining the working of the factory and the town itself.
"This is the woman's workshop where most of the fine work gets done - assembling the clasps, threading the beads and so forth. We separate the sexes for decency's sake and employ mainly local women. They leave their children at the school before coming here to work. What about your little girl - she will be attending our school?"
"If possible, yes."
"And the rest of the time? You are going to be a busy man Inspector."
"Sergeant Jacquemin has four children and his wife has agreed to help me."
"It must be hard raising a child alone."
"Yes," Javert said shortly, lowering his eyes. When he raised the again he looked about himself with a sharp, bright, professional air and enquired, "Where do you export the beads to Monsieur Madeleine? Mostly Spain I should imagine."
'Poor man' thought Madeleine, ' loosing his wife must have been a terrible blow'. It felt odd to pity this man, a similar feeling to pitying an injured wolf or a shark struggling for breath while suspended in a fisherman's net. For Madeleine was now certain that the man standing before him as the new inspector of police was identical to the young guard who had assisted in his recapture after his first escape attempt form Toulon

As the two men left the women's workshop they were watched closely by a blonde woman, who might once have been pretty, wearing a grey dress that might once have been fine. As Madeleine made comment on the difficulties of raising a child alone the woman moved her hand to her move in an almost convulsive movement, biting on the skin of her knuckles. It was an attempt to stop herself crying out load, 'Hard, yes! But it's a blessing.' That this man should have a child, a little girl, and care for her all himself! That he should receive sympathy when all she got was contempt! She had grown used to seeing the other women being met by their children at the factory gates, that hardly troubled her at all now. But this had taken her by surprise and Fantine had to raise her hands over her eyes so no-one would see her cry.