Chapter 9 : Gypsy.

Weeks passed and Fantine's condition seemed to remain the same. The fever would weigh her down one day and leave her the next, they would think Fantine was getting better, and then the fever would knock her out again. Fantine was pale, her blue eyes had lost their sparkle since a long time yet, despite the early aging of her features, she had strangely retained the marks of her beauty. The young woman, who was barely twenty-five, looked almost forty. But Fantine was radiant inside, there were two things that misery had not stolen or tarnished, and that Fantine had preciously kept like a treasure. Sweetness and joy. Fantine was a light in the religious morosity of the infirmary and even Sister Perpetue, who had only had a haughty look for Fantine the first time she saw her, ended up loving her.

Each week was punctuated by regular visits from the mayor. He always came on the same days at the same time and stayed at her bedside for an hour. He prayed, read a little for her and listened patiently to her talking about Cosette. Fantine waited for his visits sometimes with the impatience of a child.

It rained all that day. Fantine laid there looking at the sky with melancholy. Several times during the day, Sister Simplice had passed by the woman's room and had sadly observed her without entering, reciting a prayer in her heart. She ate, then slept all day and did not wake up until nightfall.

The room was dark despite the candles at her bedside. Outside the rain was still pouring down on the roofs. She was sighing, her heart weary, when she saw a shape moving in the corner of the room. She almost screamed, but immediately recognized the massive, terrible and yet reassuring figure of Inspector Javert.

"Good evening," he said, greeting her.
"Good evening, Inspector!"
"Forgive me my manners," Javert said as he sat on the stool next to the bed.
"You came to see me? Well, you scared me. It's not good for my poor heart", Fantine laid a hand on her chest and realized that her skin was uncovered, she modestly adjusted her blouse.
"We did not finish last time and I still have questions. I'm investigating. I need to know everything to understand the situation with those Innkeepers. »
"It is no longer useful, Inspector. The Mayor will soon bring my Cosette back here. Certainly this week and all this will be ancient history, which I want to forget. And besides," Fantine added resolutely, "I don't want to talk about it anymore."
Javert took a deep breath, he had been warned by the sisters that he should, in any case, cause trouble to Fantine, nevertheless, he had a mission, from the Mayor, but a mission nonetheless.

"Madam," Javert said, "it is more than necessary that you... »
"No, Inspector, you don't understand. I don't want to talk about it anymore it is too painful," said Fantine. She, too, had to modulate her words. Javert was an inspector and although she now knew he would not come to arrest her, she was not less intimidated. "I talk, but it tires me. Actually, I would rather listen to you first. »
"You tell me you're tired? " Fantine nodded. "You were in that bed all the day" the inspector raised an eyebrow, perplexed.
"I grew up in Montreuil, Inspector, and you?"
Javert's two eyebrows now formed a great arc across his forehead. Had she just questionned him as if it were a courtesy visit?
"It doesn't matter," Javert said briefly. "Can you describe to me the Thenardiers? You have told me nothing about them, why did you entrust a child to people you did not know? "
"You know, Inspector, you remind me of someone... Your skin... »
Fantine murmured in contemplation. Her blue eyes passed over him like two silver blades. Javert, for the first time in his life felt a profound disturbance deep inside him and he felt on his cheeks, a strange tingling. Yes, Javert's skin was the mark of his birth: he was a gypsy, and if all his life, he had made sure to hide it, even to annihilate his identity, he could not hide the colour of his skin and the blackness of his eyes and hair. He had only earned rejection and distrust thus he denied it. Under the gaze of this woman, Javert blushed with shame for the people to which he belonged.
"Who were your parents?»
Javert looked at Fantine. Who did she think she was? She was not any more than he was. He was born a gypsy but had long since turned away from this path to choose a much higher way. The Law was his mother. He had, from a very young age learned to ignore these glances of persecution, mistrust and hatred, until he would not see them anymore. And then, quickly, the police uniform had become his second skin. It was respect, fear, awe that he inspired now. Should he be blushing under the look of that woman, that prostitute, here today? Javert, looking up, expected to see in Fantine's eyes the same contempt he had seen before. But instead, he discovered these two deep, curious eyes that stared at him without fear or judgment, only with something imperceptible, sweet and terrible at the same time. It was her who pierced him with her gaze, not the other way around, and the tingling he had felt in her cheeks spread to all his body. It was obvious to him that Fantine knew deep down what he was.

"My mother was a fortune teller". Javert caught himself answering, and a long silence followed. Fantine nodded and the sketch of a smile appeared on her mouth.

"Can I tell you a story? But can you get me some water first, please, monsieur? »

Javert stared at her with a cautious air. On the bedside table next to him, the sisters had left a jar of water and a small cup. He seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, then he got up and poured a little water into the cup, which he then handed to Fantine. With her two hands she took the cup, innocently touching Javert's fingers. A shiver run from his fingertips to his spine.

That was the second time he touched her. The first time, he had a shiver of disgust when the prostitute put his hand on her chest at the police station. He had shivered under that abject touch. He who had always abstained from anything that would distract him from his mission. He had looked with disdain at this woman one looks at a parasite. And then he was giving her water. She drank all the contents of the cup in one stroke and then returned it to Javert, who this time took great care not to touch her.

"I was born in Montreuil, my parents were poor and I had to work on a farm when I was ten," Fantine began, sitting comfortably. The inspector listened to her, sitting on the tiny chair, straight and attentive, slightly and unconsciously caressing his hand.

"The farm was not far from the forest, and at that time it was much bigger than it is today. I was told: don't go, little girl, if you walk there alone, a gypsy will come and eat you! I believed in it as much as we believe in the big bad wolf. I think it was better for them to run into a wolf than a gypsy. I heard so many stories... But it's strange, I wasn't really afraid. »

"Why?" asked Javert, with a sincere curiosity.

"Have you ever noticed, Inspector, the unknown attracts you as much as it can scare you? And this is why I went into that forest. And not just once. One day, I desperately wanted to find a gypsy, as one looks for a butterfly, or a caterpillar. Eventually, I left the trail and got lost. I was so small, I couldn't see much from afar, and then the night came. I was so scared. I didn't have anything to eat, and at night, the forest becomes dangerous. And I had been told the stories of the big bad wolf, as you can imagine. The night seems to amplify everything, and I heard, in the distance, a voice singing. I followed the song, thinking that I was not that far from the village. But I couldn't understand the lyrics of the song. After walking for a long time, I saw a reddish glow between the trees. As I approached it, I saw a wood fire. I had found my butterflies, they were dancing around a fire and singing." A smile illuminated Fantine's face, she cast a playful look at Javert, forgetting that she had a police inspector as a public. She laughed, and the crystal-clear sound of her laughter pierced the thickness of the ceiling and reached the ears of the sisters, who stopped their work for a moment and looked at each other.

"They looked just like you, Inspector," she gazed at him again and nodded her head, "With hair darker than the night. The woman singing was so pretty, like a fairy, with her earrings and her long curly hair. I don't know how, but they finally saw me. The gypsy fairy came to me, and I think I'll never forget her look. Her black eyes, deep and bright, of an extraordinary brightness, which penetrates and probes you." Fantine became suddenly silent, she blushed, and furtively lowered her eyes. "Then, she warmed me in her arms and fed me. I fell asleep. And the the next day," concluded Fantine, "I was back at the farm in the middle of a haystack. I thought it was a dream at first. »

"What if it was? »

"I don't think so. Either way, Inspector. Everything I knew about gypsies was wrong. And when I look at you, your eyes remind me a little of hers. »

"You know nothing about me. I have nothing to do with these gypsies, these outlaws and these parasites of society." He spat his words with contempt.

"But what did they do to you? »

"It doesn't matter," Javert concluded, standing up.

"Are you leaving already? »

"I'm wasting my time," said the inspector coldly, putting on his hat.

"You are right. You have nothing to do with these people. You're a wolf. And I'd rather run into a gypsy!" And if Fantine's gaze had caressed him for only a moment. She was glaring at him now. Javert clenched his fist, making his gloves crack, containing himself so that he did not burst into anger. He left the room abruptly and without taking the time to greet the sisters.

Fantine's heart was pounding in her chest. As soon as she said these words, she regretted them. She had put her finger on a sensitive cord, she had just touched and had awakened in the inspector an old wound that had never really healed.