Fantine had a fever all the day. The sisters let the inspector come in while Fantine was asleep, his presence surprised them less and less. They warned him, but he still wanted to see her. Javert did not know what could make people spend hours at the bedside of a sick person. Javert, although he believed in God, was not a man of prayer. He did not know that the soul, in those moments, silently prays. He simply remained silent and perfectly motionless beside her.
Fantine was lying on her back and the sheet had been lowered in the hope that it would reduce the fever. A wet piece of tissue was placed against her forehead. The heat and fever had made her cheeks red and gave colour to her usually pale face. Her chest barely raised under her breath, and she was almost perfectly motionless. Everything was quiet, calm and nothing moved in this room lit by the pale and frail rays of light from the street outside. The scene looked like a painting.
Bouts of coughing broke the tranquility of the room and shook Fantine in her sleep. Javert, who was plunged into a deep dream, jumped and, responding instinctively to this urgency, he took the cup of water from the bedside and gave it to Fantine. She choked her cough on the sleeve of her shirt and then threw herself on the glass of water being handed to her. She had not yet recognized Javert, she had felt this warm hand rubbing her back and presenting her the cup of water. She had thrown herself on it and had drunk it in one go. Looking down, Javert noticed with horror the reddish stain on the white cloth.
Fantine had clung to Javert like someone drowning. And that was only when the cough was calming that she gradually released the inspector to fall back into bed. "Monsieur Mayor? " Fantine whispered, her eyes closed. Javert frowned, the fever made her delirious, and she had not noticed that it was not the mayor who was next to her, but Inspector Javert. Javert gritted his teeth while Fantine continued to mutter the words she thought she was addressing to Monsieur Madeleine. That good Monsieur Madeleine who had just rescued her from justice. That man she adored, that she worshipped... But it was not the mayor who was there and who gave her water, it was him, Javert. Javert could not discern what Fantine was saying, everything was far too confused. She had seized his hand as if it were the hand of the old man and held it under her chin, mumbling in her sleep secrets that only God knew. The young woman pressed her hand against her throat, Javert let her do so. He felt the fever and her nails sinking into his skin. He forgot his jealousy and anger, without knowing it, he had forgiven her for having mistaken him for the mayor. He even sighed for that soul which was struggling and inevitably sliding towards death.
"Inspector? »Javert looked up, Fantine had awakened and looked at him with curiosity and gravity. "Now you are here," Fantine's voice was so weak that he had to bend over to hear it better. "You came back, since when?". She smiled weakly. It was the first time that Javert saw her in such a state, his heart, in spite of himself, was heavy.
"You're running a fever," Javert says, trying to speak as low as possible. Many adjectives could qualify Javert's voice, it was authoritative, strong, penetrating, sometimes biting, but none of these adjectives, however many they might be, would describe it at that particular moment. Anyone who heard him speak would have said, "It's not Javert, who is this talking?" Javert had a caressing voice and it warmed Fantine to the depths of her being.
The piece of cloth that covered her forehead had slipped on the side of the bed when Fantine sat down to cough. Javert picked it up and dipped it in the bucket of water at his feet. He pierced it as she was watching him with a calm and peaceful eye. Javert put the piece of cloth back on Fantine's forehead and it had the same effect as a cool breeze.
"Your hand? »
Javert raised an eyebrow, then understanding what she wanted, he gave her back his hand which she put back against her neck, this time she opened his fingers and pressed his palm against her skin. Blushing is human, a normal response from our nervous system. It was this uncontrollable influx of blood to his face that caused the red hue on his cheeks and the embarrassing tingling that he felt from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. Taking your hand out of the fire when it is burning you is also a natural response from the body, it is instinctive. However, although this contact burned him, Javert did not withdraw his hand. It was just that the burn was strangely pleasant. In the privacy of this room where no one could see him except her, Javert gave in.
"Soon," whispered Fantine. "I will have my Cosette with me, and you will see, Inspector, that I was not lying. She'll be eight years old, my little angel. She's a nice girl, my darling." Javert listened to her, finding nothing to answer, he let her speak. "I sent her a little skirt not so long ago, it must fit her so well." Fantine had closed her eyes, smiling as if Cosette were right in front of her. "Mr. Mayor is going to get her."
But the mayor was still there. Fantine had been telling him that for days. Javert frowned. The mayor kept her alive like that, he was feeding her hope, but there the time would come when oil would no longer be enough to keep the flame burning. Fantine life was coming to an end, she was consumed day by day, and Cosette would never come. That mayor was lying to her, that was all. This was another reason why Javert hated Madeleine.
"You should rest... »
"When Cosette gets here, we'll both be so happy, so happy. »
"You have a fever... »
"I know, Inspector. I think I was wrong about you. I wish we could have met under different circonstances." Fantine's voice was weak yet Javert understood every word she said. "Are you leaving already?" Fantine, who had let herself go into a sickly drowsiness, suddenly rose when she saw the inspector get up. She felt with regret the inspector's warm and rough hand withdraw from her neck.
"Yes," Javert replied, "I must go to Arras. »
"Again ? »
"I'll be back tomorrow, don't worry."
"I'm not worried, Inspector," she whispered, pulling the blanket up to her neck.
Javert bowed briefly, "well, then goodbye" he turned his heels and went to the door.
"Javert?" Fantine's brief murmur reached his ears. He froze when he realized she had called him by his first name. He turned around and saw Fantine sat on her bed again. "I have something to ask you, please". These familiarities did not please him. The woman, even though she was dying remained what she was, no? Actually, for many weeks now, Javert was not sure of what he believed to be true.
"Inspector, you are fair. I'm nothing but a bad girl, but I haven't always been like that. I was pretty once in my life, I was innocent too. Cosette is innocent. She didn't do anything wrong. Your duty is to protect the innocent. Inspector, please, not for me, but for my Cosette who didn't do anything to anyone. Will you protect my daughter? »
Fantine spoke like she knew she was going to die. She had chosen every word carefully. In a short time, Fantine had succeeded in probing the inspector. She was not flattering him by saying he was fair; she knew he was, in his own ways at least. She also knew that Javert, a loyal servant of the law and order, would listen and hear her. She knew that in him there was this duality of the ferocious dog that attacks the wicked and protects the innocent. She was aware of Javert's contempt for her and knowing this made her heart ache. But all that mattered was Cosette and no matter if people spat on her face, no matter the shame.
Javert considered Fantine for a moment. The fever seemed to have dropped. "Don't let anything happen to her, never let anyone hurt her. Inspector?" She grabbed the inspector's hand and squeezed it.
"You have my word" Javert realized what he had just promised and it was already too late to turn back. Fantine pressed her lips against the phalanges of his hand to thank him.