Modern Prose And Poetry; For Secondary Schools Part 10

[_Madame hesitates._]

MLLE. Madame, do you not understand?

[_Madame steps to a cupboard, gets the remaining silver plates, and places them on the table._]

BISHOP (_gayly, turning to Jean_). To table then, my friend! To table!

[_Jean remains for a moment, standing doggedly apart; then he steps over to the chair awaiting him, jerks it back, and sinks into it, without looking up._]

SCENE III

TIME: _Daybreak the next morning._

PLACE: _The Bishop's dining room._

[_The room is dark, except for a faint light that comes in through window curtains._ JEAN VALJEAN _creeps in from the alcove. He carries his knapsack and cudgel in one hand; in the other, his shoes. He opens the window overlooking the garden; the room becomes lighter. Jean steps to the mantel and lifts a silver candlestick._]

JEAN (_whispering_). Two hundred francs--double what I have earned in nineteen years!

[_He puts it in his knapsack; takes up the other candlestick; shudders, and sets it down again._]

No, no, he is good--he called me "sir"--

[_He stands still, staring before him, his hand still gripping the candlestick. Suddenly he straightens up; speaks bitterly._]

Why not? 'Tis easy to give a bed and food! Why doesn't he keep men from the galleys? Nineteen years for a loaf of bread!

[_Pauses a moment, then resolutely puts both candlesticks into his bag; steps to the cupboard and takes out the silver plates and the ladle, and slips them into the bag._]

All solid--I should gain at least one thousand francs. 'Tis due me--due me for all these years!

[_Closes the bag. Pause._]

No, not the candles--I owe him that much--

[_He puts the candlesticks on mantel; takes up cudgel, knapsack, and shoes; jumps out window and disappears. Pause._]

[_Enter_ MADAME. _She s.h.i.+vers; discovers the open window._]

MADAME. Why is that window open? I closed it last night myself.

Oh! Could it be possible?

[_Crosses and looks at open cupboard._]

It is gone!

[_Enter the_ BISHOP _from his room._]

BISHOP. Good morning, Madame!

MADAME. Your Reverence! The silver is gone! Where is that man?

BISHOP. In the alcove sleeping, I suppose.

[_Madame runs to curtains of alcove and looks in. Enter_ MADEMOISELLE. _Madame turns._]

He is gone!

MLLE. Gone?

MADAME. Aye, gone--gone! He has stolen our silver, the beautiful plates and the ladle! I'll inform the police at once!

[_Starts off. The Bishop stops her._]

BISHOP. Wait!--Let me ask you this--was that silver ours?

MADAME. Why--why not?

BISHOP. Because it has always belonged to the poor. I have withheld it wrongfully.

MLLE. Its loss makes no difference to Madame or me.

MADAME. Oh, no! But what is your Reverence to eat from now?

BISHOP. Are there no pewter plates?

MADAME. Pewter has an odor.

BISHOP. Iron ones, then.

MADAME. Iron has a taste.

BISHOP. Well, then, wooden plates.

[_A knock is heard at street door._]

Come in.

[_Enter an_ OFFICER _and two_ SOLDIERS, _dragging in_ JEAN VALJEAN.]

OFFICER. Your Reverence, we found your silver on this man.

BISHOP. Why not? I gave it to him. I am glad to see you again, Jean. Why did you not take the candlesticks, too?

JEAN (_trembling_). Your Reverence--