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decide.
‘In any case,’ he said, ‘if she is the Lark, I shall see her, for
the Thenardier woman is to bring her hither. That will be
the end, and then I will give my life and my blood if neces-
sary, but I will deliver her! Nothing shall stop me.’
Nearly half an hour passed in this manner. Thenardier
seemed to be absorbed in gloomy reflections, the prisoner
did not stir. Still, Marius fancied that at intervals, and for
the last few moments, he had heard a faint, dull noise in the
direction of the prisoner.
All at once, Thenardier addressed the prisoner:
‘By the way, Monsieur Fabre, I might as well say it to you
at once.’
These few words appeared to be the beginning of an ex-
planation. Marius strained his ears.
‘My wife will be back shortly, don’t get impatient. I think
that the Lark really is your daughter, and it seems to me
quite natural that you should keep her. Only, listen to me a
bit. My wife will go and hunt her up with your letter. I told
my wife to dress herself in the way she did, so that your
young lady might make no difficulty about following her.
They will both enter the carriage with my comrade behind.
Somewhere, outside the barrier, there is a trap harnessed to
two very good horses. Your young lady will be taken to it.
She will alight from the fiacre. My comrade will enter the
other vehicle with her, and my wife will come back here to
tell us: ‘It’s done.’ As for the young lady, no harm will be
done to her; the trap will conduct her to a place where she
will be quiet, and just as soon as you have handed over to