Chapter 3
Fantine walked a few blocks to where the mayor had told her to go. She walked inside the inn where men were having drinks and couples were having supper. A thin man with a mustache approached her as she walked through the door.
"Good evening, Mademoiselle. How can I help you?"
"Yes, uh, Monsieur Madeline told me to come and inquire about a room."
"Oh?" he asked, somewhat suspiciously. "What about one?"
She was at a loss for words. What did he expect her to say? "Well, Monsieur Madeline just gave me a job at his factory, and no, I'm not from around here, and so I need a place to stay. I promise I'll be able to pay once my first check is issued."
"I will take your word on that, Mademoiselle. I hope you do not prove to be one who breaks her promises. It would not only disgrace you, but those who housed you and employed you. As it is, Monsieur le Mare is very generous to have suggested my inn for you to come to. Have you eaten?"
She sighed, relieved. "No, monsieur."
"You look famished. I'll get you some wine and stew, and when you are finished, I will show you to your room."
Everything seemed so perfect, so surreal, that it had to be a dream. On her first interview, she had gotten the job. The first inn she came to, she was given a room. Everyone seemed so kind and understanding. She could scarcely believe it and had to pinch herself to remind herself what was happening was real.
After a few years of bread, water, and occasionally fish, the stew and wine seemed like a fine banquet to her. She struck up a conversation with a visiting couple at the next table.
"We're here to visit my mother and father," the woman told her.
"Oh, how nice." Fantine wished she had a mother, any family member, to visit. Life got very lonely for her at times. "What is the occasion?"
"We're here to let them know that Camille is with child."
"Anton, don't tell all of France before my parents!"
"Darling, I'm just very excited." He turned to Fantine. "We're going to be parents, after all this time! It's just so grand!" He kissed his wife on the forehead.
Fantine suddenly remembered Cosette and felt a sharp pain go through her. She remembered how upset Felix had gotten when she had told him she was pregnant. He left her and went back to his family. She was alone, carrying a bastard child. No one had helped her, she was completely alone.
"Congratulations," was all she could say. After a moment, she silently got up, found the innkeeper, and asked to be shown to her room. He walked her upstairs to Room 7, and showed her inside.
"Welcome home, Mademoiselle." He smiled and closed the door as he left.
Fantine looked around her new home. It wasn't much. The room was small but livable. There was a bed, a dresser, a nightstand, a basin, a lamp, and a window overlooking the main street. She looked out the window and saw none other than Monsieur Madeline walk into the tavern below where she had just dined.
She wanted to see him, for he was the one person who she felt understood her. He had practically read her mind when she was being interviewed. She crept over to the door, opened it, and creped over to the stairs. She saw him talking with the innkeeper. Suddenly, he looked up to where she was standing. Fantine practically ran back to her room.
Once she was back inside, she locked the door, changed into her nightclothes, and kneeled beside her bed to pray.
'Lord, I thank you for the blessings you have given me today. Please watch over me, and especially watch over my darling Cosette. Let her know that I love her. Amen.'
She climbed into bed and slowly drifted off into sleep.
-----------------------------------------------------
Valjean watched her go back to her room as he spoke with the innkeeper.
"What's her story?" asked the innkeeper.
"She must be down on her luck. She didn't say a word to me."
"She seems like a sweet girl."
"She needs help, Michael. I could tell from the look in her eyes. Something tells me that if she hadn't happened upon this town, she would have been sleeping on the side of some road wondering where her next meal would be coming from."
"What do you suggest?"
"Don't single her out. Here's some money in advance for her room and board. I don't want her to have to worry about anything."
"Should I tell her?"
"No, I'd rather have her pleasantly surprised. I'm sure today has been very overwhelming. In a good way, of course."
"Yes, well, goodnight, Monsieur le Mare, and thank you."
Valjean tipped his hat, and continued his walk through town. The streets seemed so quiet and peaceful at night, it almost calmed him. He avoided the downtown area where he knew the whores would be at this time. He didn't believe in prostitution, but he didn't feel like sending anyone to jail. Jail was a horrible place to be, especially when you were poor, cold, hungry, destitute, and degraded.
He reached his home, removed his coat and hat, tended to the fire, and readied himself for bed. He felt a new sense of pride, happiness in bringing joy to another's life. He began to wonder how for so long he could have been bitter with his years in jail when he belonged there for being selfish and self absorbed. This new experience of helping other people was so selfless that it made him smile.
As he fell asleep, he wondered what other good he could do for his factory ... the town ... that woman.
Fantine walked a few blocks to where the mayor had told her to go. She walked inside the inn where men were having drinks and couples were having supper. A thin man with a mustache approached her as she walked through the door.
"Good evening, Mademoiselle. How can I help you?"
"Yes, uh, Monsieur Madeline told me to come and inquire about a room."
"Oh?" he asked, somewhat suspiciously. "What about one?"
She was at a loss for words. What did he expect her to say? "Well, Monsieur Madeline just gave me a job at his factory, and no, I'm not from around here, and so I need a place to stay. I promise I'll be able to pay once my first check is issued."
"I will take your word on that, Mademoiselle. I hope you do not prove to be one who breaks her promises. It would not only disgrace you, but those who housed you and employed you. As it is, Monsieur le Mare is very generous to have suggested my inn for you to come to. Have you eaten?"
She sighed, relieved. "No, monsieur."
"You look famished. I'll get you some wine and stew, and when you are finished, I will show you to your room."
Everything seemed so perfect, so surreal, that it had to be a dream. On her first interview, she had gotten the job. The first inn she came to, she was given a room. Everyone seemed so kind and understanding. She could scarcely believe it and had to pinch herself to remind herself what was happening was real.
After a few years of bread, water, and occasionally fish, the stew and wine seemed like a fine banquet to her. She struck up a conversation with a visiting couple at the next table.
"We're here to visit my mother and father," the woman told her.
"Oh, how nice." Fantine wished she had a mother, any family member, to visit. Life got very lonely for her at times. "What is the occasion?"
"We're here to let them know that Camille is with child."
"Anton, don't tell all of France before my parents!"
"Darling, I'm just very excited." He turned to Fantine. "We're going to be parents, after all this time! It's just so grand!" He kissed his wife on the forehead.
Fantine suddenly remembered Cosette and felt a sharp pain go through her. She remembered how upset Felix had gotten when she had told him she was pregnant. He left her and went back to his family. She was alone, carrying a bastard child. No one had helped her, she was completely alone.
"Congratulations," was all she could say. After a moment, she silently got up, found the innkeeper, and asked to be shown to her room. He walked her upstairs to Room 7, and showed her inside.
"Welcome home, Mademoiselle." He smiled and closed the door as he left.
Fantine looked around her new home. It wasn't much. The room was small but livable. There was a bed, a dresser, a nightstand, a basin, a lamp, and a window overlooking the main street. She looked out the window and saw none other than Monsieur Madeline walk into the tavern below where she had just dined.
She wanted to see him, for he was the one person who she felt understood her. He had practically read her mind when she was being interviewed. She crept over to the door, opened it, and creped over to the stairs. She saw him talking with the innkeeper. Suddenly, he looked up to where she was standing. Fantine practically ran back to her room.
Once she was back inside, she locked the door, changed into her nightclothes, and kneeled beside her bed to pray.
'Lord, I thank you for the blessings you have given me today. Please watch over me, and especially watch over my darling Cosette. Let her know that I love her. Amen.'
She climbed into bed and slowly drifted off into sleep.
-----------------------------------------------------
Valjean watched her go back to her room as he spoke with the innkeeper.
"What's her story?" asked the innkeeper.
"She must be down on her luck. She didn't say a word to me."
"She seems like a sweet girl."
"She needs help, Michael. I could tell from the look in her eyes. Something tells me that if she hadn't happened upon this town, she would have been sleeping on the side of some road wondering where her next meal would be coming from."
"What do you suggest?"
"Don't single her out. Here's some money in advance for her room and board. I don't want her to have to worry about anything."
"Should I tell her?"
"No, I'd rather have her pleasantly surprised. I'm sure today has been very overwhelming. In a good way, of course."
"Yes, well, goodnight, Monsieur le Mare, and thank you."
Valjean tipped his hat, and continued his walk through town. The streets seemed so quiet and peaceful at night, it almost calmed him. He avoided the downtown area where he knew the whores would be at this time. He didn't believe in prostitution, but he didn't feel like sending anyone to jail. Jail was a horrible place to be, especially when you were poor, cold, hungry, destitute, and degraded.
He reached his home, removed his coat and hat, tended to the fire, and readied himself for bed. He felt a new sense of pride, happiness in bringing joy to another's life. He began to wonder how for so long he could have been bitter with his years in jail when he belonged there for being selfish and self absorbed. This new experience of helping other people was so selfless that it made him smile.
As he fell asleep, he wondered what other good he could do for his factory ... the town ... that woman.