Grave Matters

Fantine waited for Javert to round the street corner before she walked up to M. Madeleine's study. To her surprise, the door was ajar. In the study, M. Madeleine seemed to be absorbed in reading a heavy tome.

"You sent for me, Monsieur?" Fantine asked.

M. Madeleine looked up quickly. His eyes were clouded though a smile formed on his lips. "Yes I did, Fantine," he said, showing her to a chair. "Firstly, did you find a new situation on your own already?"

Fantine bit her lip. "Sewing shirts for the prisoners, Monsieur."

M. Madeleine's brow furrowed. "That will not help you very much. I hate to admit it, but the prison does not pay much"

"I know," Fantine said calmly, though she could already feel the flush creeping up to her face. "Monsieur Mayor, I know I did not really want to ask you at first—it did not seem to be right, then."

M. Madeleine nodded as his eyes glanced at Fantine's hands, which were still suffering from the previous day's work. "You are a needlewoman?"

"I try," Fantine grinned. "And I can learn other things, I hope!"

M. Madeleine's face brightened slightly with mirth. "Then you can help Sister Simplice at the infirmary. There is much linen there that needs to be arranged and sewn up, among many other things. I will pay you wages, of course, and extend what other assistance you might need as far as your daughter and Gilles are concerned."

Fantine's jaw dropped. "You would do that for me, Monsieur?"

The gentleman nodded firmly. "You could begin today, if you wish. Sister Simplice is expecting you, actually. She will tell you what needs to be done."

"Oh I will do my best—thank you so much, M. Madeleine!" Fantine said joyously. She felt as if all of a sudden a ray of light had pierced the dark veil in her mind, but she could tell the same could not be said for the mayor. "I am happy, Monsieur, but what about you? You seem to be saddened."

"Do I now?" M. Madeleine asked, raising an eyebrow.

Fantine nodded. "Is it something that Monsieur Inspecteur said? Or something so important with the town?"

"It is a matter concerning only me," M. Madeleine replied in a forced tone. "I do not wish you to question Monsieur Javert about it. He was only doing his duty."

Fantine bit her lip, but she nodded in assent. "I thank you once again, Monsieur Mayor," she said, attempting a curtsy before turning to leave the study. Her steps were light as she went to the infirmary, but she could not get out of her mind the image of M. Madeleine's face, once so cheery but now grown so grave.

"You need to sew these up—and there's the matter of the bandages," Sister Simplice said quickly as she and Fantine put away some folded cloth. She clucked her tongue with dissatisfaction at the height of the stack in the cabinet. "You could bring some of these home," she added, gesturing to the quickly darkening sky outside.

Fantine fetched a basket and began putting some cloth in it. "I'll make pillowcases, Sister. I could even get some lace."

"The simplest ones will do nicely enough. You need not be so vain," Sister Simplice said with a queer shake of her head.

"They would be nice all the same" Fantine thought, but she bit her lip. "I'll be back in the morning Sister."

Sister Simplice smiled amiably. "God bless you, Fantine, and the children as well," she murmured before going to her evening prayers.

Fantine crossed herself before walking out into the night. She could hear the sounds of families finishing up dinner and of young men heading out for the night's merriment. She lowered her head when some of the dandies called out to her, just so they wouldn't see her pained eyes.

The next morning, Fantine was awakened by the sound of a piercing shriek. "My God, Cosette!" she gasped as she ran down the stairs.

Cosette was curled up at the bottom of the stairs, crying as she held out her right arm. Gilles, who had dropped his breakfast nearby, was trying to soothe the little girl. "She took a fall," the boy said frantically.

Fantine winced as she saw the swelling beginning to show on Cosette's arm, clearly signs of a break. "Cherie, I'll get a doctor---no, I'll have to bring you to the infirmary," she whispered as she tried to pick up the child. Cosette only screamed and clung on to Fantine.

Gilles swallowed hard. "I can spare a few minutes to help you," he said as he picked up Cosette's coat as well as Fantine's basket.

As they hurried, Cosette continued to whimper. "It hurts more when we run," she sobbed.

"I'm sorry but there is no other way," Fantine said as they stopped to let a carriage pass. The church bell tolled, signifying the hour.

Sister Simplice was waiting at the doorway. "My goodness, what happened?" she asked as she hurried the trio inside. "Call a doctor, young man," she instructed Gilles.

"Will she be alright?" Fantine asked Sister Simplice as they set Cosette down on a bed. The little girl cradled her injured arm as she fought to stop crying.

The older woman sighed as Gilles hurried out. "I have faith that God can guide the doctor."

Cosette's eyes went wide. "What will he do?"

Sister Simplice took a deep breath. "He will try to make the bones in your arm straight again," she said.

"How?" Cosette asked, glancing at her arm. "Will he have to cut it off?"

"No, no," Fantine said reassuringly. "I'm so sorry for the trouble, Sister."

Sister Simplice shook her head. "We have time to work. There are not too many patients here today, and the Mayor is out---"

"Oh, where?"

"He did not say, but he was not headed for Paris," Sister Simplice said in a hushed whisper. "And the Inspector has gone to Arras, so I hear."

"Arras?" Fantine repeated, having only heard of the town just then. "Is that far?"

"Not really," the nun replied.

"You do not suppose that M. Mayor was going to Arras as well?"

"Perhaps not. What would he do there anyhow?"