60 Les Miserables
My brother has ways of his own. When he talks, he says
that a bishop ought to be so. Just imagine! the door of our
house is never fastened. Whoever chooses to enter finds
himself at once in my brother’s room. He fears nothing,
even at night. That is his sort of bravery, he says.
He does not wish me or Madame Magloire feel any fear
for him. He exposes himself to all sorts of dangers, and he
does not like to have us even seem to notice it. One must
know how to understand him.
He goes out in the rain, he walks in the water, he travels
in winter. He fears neither suspicious roads nor dangerous
encounters, nor night.
Last year he went quite alone into a country of robbers.
He would not take us. He was absent for a fortnight. On his
return nothing had happened to him; he was thought to be
dead, but was perfectly well, and said, ‘This is the way I have
been robbed!’ And then he opened a trunk full of jewels,
all the jewels of the cathedral of Embrun, which the thieves
had given him.
When he returned on that occasion, I could not refrain
from scolding him a little, taking care, however, not to
speak except when the carriage was making a noise, so that
no one might hear me.
At first I used to say to myself, ‘There are no dangers
which will stop him; he is terrible.’ Now I have ended by
getting used to it. I make a sign to Madam Magloire that she
is not to oppose him. He risks himself as he sees fit. I carry
off Madam Magloire, I enter my chamber, I pray for him
and fall asleep. I am at ease, because I know that if anything