Chapter 20 About face !
The next day Cosette was awakened with the smell of hot bread. She left the large bed in the room, and went down the stairs on the tip of her feet. It was still very early, the dawn was scarcely rising and a cold wind was already blowing through the poorly filled joints of the windows. Cosette paused in the shadows to listen to the sound of the wind. It might be cold outside, she thought, clutching around her the little shawl Anicette had lent her; not that she was cold inside and all wrapped up in her little wool dress, but that she was thinking of her inspector who was coming back in that freezing weather..
Anicette was there in the kitchen of the inn, stirring something in a large iron pot which Cosette had never seen. All around her, scattered on the table, were golden loaves of bread, soft and still piping hot. At the Thenardier's inn, Cosette had no right to be in the kitchen. The elephant set free still believes he is tied up, Cosette dared not approach any further and stood at the entrance to the kitchen. She carefully studied the shelves above the sink, where there were hundreds of bottles of all colours and sizes, and where dried and aromatic herbs were hanging. On the work surface that extended the sink, there were baskets of vegetables and eggs, and utensils of all kinds. There was also a boiling pot on the fire of the fireplace. In the midst of all this abundance, Cosette's belly had begun to gurgle, alerting at the same time the innkeeper, who had not noticed that the child was there.
"Ah, hello, darling," said Anicette cheerfully.
"What is it? » asked Cosette pointing at the iron pot.
"That? Ah, it's to make butter. You have to turn, turn and turn again for the milk to change into butter." Anicette gestured her to approach. The young woman stopped turning the butter to carry Cosette on a chair. "There, look" and she showed her the inside of the pot. But Cosette was no more interested in this strange process than in the bread on the table. "Are you hungry?" And without waiting for an answer, the innkeeper cut a thick slice of bread and gave it to Cosette. "So? »
The child shook her head happily, "Good!" she said with her mouth full.
"Then eat. Today, I asked Matthias to clean up the barn. There is wood to throw away and there will certainly be straw and dust to clean up. Will you help him? »
Cosette shook her head, she liked Matthias and work had always been her daily life but it was the first time she was given a choice. Anicette had given her another piece of brioche with pieces of bread. Cosette was eating quietly while Anicette had returned to her work.
"Well, eat, my pretty child. You need to put on a little weight, you're very skinny, and I wonder how you've managed to survive the winter like that. I mean, I'm going to take care of you. Tonight, we'll take a hot bath, okay?"
A bath? Cosette looked at her with wide eyes. She did not really know what a bath was and she would have to wait for tonight to discover it. Once Matthias got up, and when he had also had breakfast, they left the inn together for the barn.
"The man in the black cloak," said Matthias, "is he your father? »
Cosette had swept the entire barn while Matthias had removed the worn-out planks. She heard him ask his question and raised her head. She understood that he was referring to the inspector, but she did not reply. After all, she did not know. She knew that she had a mother, that she was dead and that she also had to have a father, maybe. However, she did not know if her father was the inspector or not.
"I had one, but he died," said Matthias." So, is he your father or not? »
"I don't know," whispered Cosette. For a whole day the memory of Javert had faded, and now that they were talking about it, sadness took over again. "I want to see him"
"Mom says he'll be back, but she's not sure. He must have a lot of work to do. Do you know where he lives? »
"No. »
"Do you know his name? »
"Inspector..." She was suddenly silent; she had heard him so few times that she had not restrained him. In the end, she did not know anything about this savior.
"My daddy's name was Charles, that's all I know about him. My mother never talks about him. Hey, don't cry. Come on, let's go home."
Shortly after, they were back at the inn. Matthias, with Anicette's help, had installed the bathtub in the kitchen by the fire and then he left them. Anicette took care of heating the water and filling the bathtub.
"It is good, Cosette," said Anicette, pouring a last pot of hot water into the bathtub. "Now come here, little pig, we'll clean you up! You see how nice it is, it's hot." She undressed Cosette and put her in the bathtub, then she took water in her hands and poured it over her hair. She rolled up her sleeves and kneeled on the floor. With her cheek against the wood, she looked at Cosette who was having fun in the water. Cosette would eventually forget the inspector. It was not a problem for her to keep Cosette, she loved the child well, and it cost nothing. But when she saw them coming together, she felt like something special between them. Something she could not describe. Yet she did not know the inspector, and everything in his face showed a stern and austere man, but he was far from being mean. Somehow, there was something reassuring and solid about him. He was not Cosette's father, he was probably anyone's father or husband, but when Javert entered with Cosette to warm her up, Anicette had seen a flame shining in him. He had left, he had abandoned Cosette out of cowardice and selfishness, he would come back because that is the right thing to do.
While she was thinking, there was a knock on the door. She heard Matthias' voice and then another man's voice. Certainly travelers. She got up, signaled to Cosette not to make a noise as a precaution, and went to see for herself what was happening on the other side. She froze like a statue of salt when she recognized the large silhouette and broad shoulders of the inspector. When he turned around, he greeted her with his hat, and stepped forward, when he reached her, he said calmly, in a quiet and low voice.
"Where is the child?"
Gathering all her spirits together, Anicette smiled and said in a low voice not to let Cosette hear, "she's taking a bath next door. Have a seat, Inspector. It must have been a long way."
Indeed, the road had been long. Javert, when he left the inn two days ago, took the road to Montreuil. After a few days, he should have arrived at his destination, but the fate was different. One of the horses died after a day and a half's journey. They were then close to Amiens. They stopped at a relay not far from the city and Javert found refuge in an inn in the city. There, fate found it good that he read in the newspaper that a prisoner had escaped from the prison of Toulon a few days earlier. The name of this prisoner had jumped into his eyes. It was Jean Valjean. Jean Valjean had escaped from Toulon and was free again. Javert had at that moment a terrible laugh. Montreuil would wait, Jean Valjean was outside and Javert did not intend to let him go, not again. He went to the police prefecture of Amiens, where he learned that a wanted notices had been published everywhere and that all the police in France was aware of it. That would have been enough for any police officer, but not for Javert. It was not enough to know that everyone was looking for Jean Valjean, no, it was necessary for to catch him immediately, put him behind bars and never let him out of sight, if necessary, Javert would be the one who would spend his nights and days at the bars of Jean Valjean's cell. He was the one who would find him. But where to look?
France was huge, where could a convict like Jean Valjean go to hide? A man like him would not go unnoticed and it would be impossible to fool the world a second time with a second Monsieur Madeleine. But where, where would a man go to hide if he wanted to be forgotten?
Paris.
Paris, where everything could get lost and where everything could be found. Sleep had also disappeared, insomnia had taken him more and more often lately, he slept little and thought a lot. Usually, he did not like either of these two things so common and vital to human beings. Sleeping and thinking. Yet, that evening, he thought to the point of deciding that it was to Paris that he had to go. That was definitely where Jean Valjean would go. At least to find money and then leave France. But wherever he would go, Javert would be there, he swore that evening, and as the night drew dark before him, he left Amiens on horseback for Paris.
He went at the rhythm of the horse, taking only short pauses to allow time for the horse to rest and eat, and in the meantime, he ruminated and thought seriously but determinedly about Jean Valjean. He had to move fast, every second that passed was a little distance he put between himself and the convict. But he had to calm down, take the time to think about the best strategy to arrest the convict and bring him back in prison.
And as he was on the paths, he lifted up his eyes to the stars, and under the splendor of that celestial vault, the innocent face of the child appeared to him. Montreuil was near Paris, Cosette was near. What if... And if it was Cosette that Jean Valjean came to retrieve to honor whatever promise he would have made to the dead woman. This thought haunted him for hours. He, too, had made a promise to the dead woman, a promise that spoke louder than any that could have been made before. Javert had promised that he would look after Cosette, that he would not let anyone hurt her because it was his duty. Cosette, innocent and pure in the hands of a man like Jean Valjean. No.
Instead of taking the turn to Paris, he turned towards Montreuil. It was that road that would take him back to Cosette.
"I won't stay long," said Javert as Anicette took off his coat and hat.
"Ah, but you will stay at least for the night, Cosette has been looking for you a lot," she hung the inspector's belongings on a coat rack and went to get him something.
"I don't drink, but I'd like to eat something, please." Anicette gently rested the bottle she had just taken out of a cupboard and turned to Javert. "That's good!" she said, lifting up her hair to tie it. "There's bread and ham pie. Hold on »
Javert watched her until she disappeared behind the thick black door of the kitchen. He sighed, without understanding it, he had relaxed. It is impossible to say whether it was because of the warmth of the room or whether it was because of the mysterious feminine power of Anicette which could, with a smile or a glance, calm the most violent storms. Unless it was because of Cosette who was right back there, safe and close to him.
Matthias, on the other side of the room, had observed all the actions and gestures of this strange man who had been the center of interest for several days. He had already seen people like him pass by, people with dark skin and black hair. His mother told him he was a gypsy. Gypsies? Men and women who have no home and travel everywhere. Matthias loved traveling even though he had never been able to leave the inn. But this man was a police inspector, he did not know much about the system, but he figured that a police inspector might have his own house and a place to stay. And Cosette was so different from him that she certainly could not be his daughter, so what did it all mean?
Javert had sat down at a table in a quiet corner and withdrawn from the main room. He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his black hair tied in a ponytail. He collapsed into the chair and with a weary gesture, he began to caress his sideburns. What was he thinking about? Jean Valjean. This obsession grew in his mind, he knew he would not find rest until the convict was put behind bars.
"Daddy!" Javert's heart missed a beat, his whole being stiffened when he recognized Cosette's small voice. But it could not be her, who could she call that? Yet, at the other end of the room, she was the one he saw running towards him. With her hair floating slightly in the wind, she was warmly dressed in a new black cotton dress that Anicette had sewn herself into an old garment. Cosette had nothing left of Montfermeil's frightened and sick kitten. A few days were enough for her hollow cheeks to fill and turn pink. Even before he could do anything, Cosette threw herself at him and hugged him. Javert was still frozen, the whole room had to turn around to admire these happy reunions.
"Cosette, slowly... Let the inspector breathe."
He was saved by Anicette and Cosette released him. Yes, she had just called him Daddy, and she glanced at Matthias, who had not left his post at the stairs. She was sure of it now, since the inspector had returned, it was that he was her father. Otherwise, why would he come back for her? He loved her! And she loved him, too. But the audacity she had before quickly vanished and she regained her timid air..
"Enjoy your meal, Inspector. Shall I get you a room? »
"I said I won't stay long. »
"So I'm preparing Cosette's things? »
"Her things?" First, it seemed to him that Cosette had nothing in her possession, and secondly, to prepare them, why? To go with him? He had come back for her but his courage was abandoning him. "Take the time to eat, Inspector, it will clear your mind" Anicette was right, he was hungry and had hardly ate since he had left Amiens.