Note : I have use some quotations from the book in this chapter, I have marked it with a little "*".
The mayor's office was not very large and was furnished to the strict minimum. In the centre of the room was a simple mahogany desk with a chair whose wood was peeled in some places and whose leather was worn out. On either side of the room sat two large cabinets which contained the various registers of the city. There was also a fireplace behind the desk at the back of the room, with no log inside yet the room was warm. In front of this chimney stood a large leather seat.
Javert entered the candle-lit room. He stopped as he noticed a shape packed near the chimney. This form was none other than the Mayor's, immersed in his reading, he did not heard him come in. Javert did not dare to make a noise. He observed with awe this aristocrat who seemed to be one of those mystical beings immersed in a severe meditation. He stepped forward, but even the sound of his footsteps on the floor did not seem to bother the mayor. There was something about that old man that was beyond Javert. He himself did not know what it could be. Whether it was guilt or shame that brought him here, one cannot say precisely. As proud as Inspector Javert could be, in this room, and if anyone had witnessed the scene, he bore all the signs of humility and respect.
It seemed ridiculously obvious now that Monsieur Madeleine was none other than Monsieur Madeleine and not a convict escaped from prison. And Javert's scrupulous mind had gone the wrong way, and yet it was not on a mere whim that he denounced the old man. For the first time, his flair had deceived him and led him down a wrong path. He had shamefully incriminated an honest man. He had broken the law and was no longer worthy of it.
Javert did not dare to break the silence, both because he did not want to disturbing the mayor and also because he was afraid of what would happen next.
"Well, what's the matter?" exclaimed a voice. It was the mayor calling him out.
"Monsieur Mayor," replied Javert, after he had swallowed, "a guilty deed has been done."
"What deed?" Asked the mayor.
"An officer disrespected a magistrate. I have come, as it is my duty, to bring the matter to your attention."*
"And who is this officer?"*
"Me," Javert confessed, gazing at the chimney.
"You?"*
Javert took a deep breath, he wanted to finish it as quickly as possible, so for that he had to jump in and deliver what he had to say. He shook his hands, cracking the leather of his gloves.
"I have come to give you my resignation. But sir, that would not be enough to punish such an act of rudeness and to cover up such disrespect. I have to be chased out. Yes, I must be punished."*
"Chase you? How? But why? What have you done to me that deserves you to be expelled? I don't understand!"*
"You'll understand, Monsieur Mayor. Six weeks ago, following this scene about this... woman, I was furious and I reported you to the police department of Paris."*
"As a mayor who encroached on the police?"*
"No, as a former convict. * I thought so, for a long time I had ideas... a resemblance, coincidences: such as your kidney strength, your leg dragging a little... Yes, all this made me think that you were Jean Valjean. He's a ex-convict breaking the ban. It's been around eight years since we last heard of him, sir."
Javert did not look up, he heard the mayor take the files he was reading and bring them back to his office. The inspector did not move and was still staring at the chimney.
"What were you told then?" Asked the mayor. Javert would not have been able to discern any emotion in the mayor's voice.
"I was told I was crazy because the real Jean Valjean has been caught. A man named Champ Matthieu was arrested for stealing apples. Everyone recognizes him as the famous Jean Valjean. He was hiding under a different name, that's all. I saw that man myself. Yes, no doubt it's Jean Valjean. The man denies everything, but it was to be expected."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Oh, I'm sure of it!"
There was still a long silence, Javert sighed; after all, he was relieved that the real Jean Valjean had been caught.
"Monsieur Mayor," said Javert grievously and solemnly, "Now you understand why you have to chase me out of the police force. That simple mistake could have cost you dearly!"
"When will his trial be held?" The mayor had completely ignored what Javert had just said.
"Tomorrow. I'm being summoned to testify against him in Arras, tomorrow."
"Well, all these details do not concern me," the mayor whistled sharply, sweeping the air with his hands. "I have things to do and I need you to go to that nice Buseaupied lady who sells herbs over there on the corner of Saint Saulbe Street. You will tell her..."
Javert listened in amazement to the mayor, who had now sat in his office, and was reading him the list of the things he wanted him to do. Javert stared at him with incomprehension, did this man understand him? Suddenly the mayor stopped.
"Oh, but I give you a lot of work... aren't you going to be absent? When are you leaving?"
"I thought I told you that the matter was to be decided tomorrow. I'll leave tonight in a stagecoach for Arras. It'll only be for one day. I'll be back tomorrow night after I've given my deposition."
"Well, Javert, I won't keep you any longer, then."
It was as if the sky fell on his head, Javert could not believe his ears. He did not move, he stared at the mayor with an air that could not be described, mixed with surprise, incredulity and incomprehension.
"Excuse me, Monsieur Mayor," Javert whispered in an unassured voice.
"What else is it, Javert?"
"I have to be chased... I have wrongly suspected you, not only that, but also in an excess of anger, for the simple purpose of revenge.I have offended the authority to which I am subject, as a mere police inspector. If I were you, I would have chase myself out. In my life I have often been strict with others but it was fair*. What's the point of all this if I can't be fair to myself? * That's what I deserve. Would I have been good only to punish others and not me?*No! Please don't be kind to me, that kindness is enough horror to me when it's for others*. It's a very difficult thing to be fair, much more than being good, but I'm willing to pay the consequences of my mistake."
"Javert," said the Mayor slowly, "I have no intention of dismissing you; you have done your duty, you have made a mistake, but error is human." His voice was calm, almost soft, but full of authority. Javert greeted him with respect and left the room without arguing.
There was nothing good about this laxity, Javert thought. We pardon an officer today, we pardon a convict tomorrow... Did mercy and goodness outweigh justice? Would they speak louder? But was not justice, the Law, above all and everything? How could this man be so ignorant? And who was he all the more to go beyond this natural order?
Javert put his top hat on his head and plunged into the streets of Montreuil-sur-Mer, his day was over, he was going home, eat dinner, then take the stagecoach for Arras. Something about him was boiling at the thought of finally putting that convict behind bars. This time no more escape, he would be held under surveillance until the end of his life. Tomorrow, he said to himself, I will finally have peace.
The stagecoach was supposed to pick him up around seven in front of the police station. Javert was finishing his patrol and the sky was already sprinkled with stars. The inspector thoughtfully walked up the street, with his hands behind his back and his chin buried in the collar of his coat. Javert had not recovered from the events of the morning. Should we pity all? Well, there would be no one in prison and there would be no justice!
Javert raised his nose only to cross a street. At the same time, he realized that he had arrived in front of the infirmary where Fantine was. The woman had been absent from his thoughts since a long time. He pulled out his pocket watch. It was still early. And soon he would be leaving for Arras again. The mayor had not told him anything about Fantine, he assumed that everything was fine then. Nevertheless, standing there in the middle of the pavement, something seemed to hold him and pull him towards the infirmary. He contemplates for a moment the idea of visiting her. But for what? The last two visits ended quite bad.
Still, Fantine had never answered the questions he had asked her. Javert took this excuse and knocked on the door of the infirmary.