'Monsieur-I-don't-know-your-name，'he said resolutely，and this time casting aside all respectful ceremony，'I shall take back Cosette if you do not give me a thousand crowns.'
The stranger said tranquilly：——
'Come，Cosette.'
He took Cosette by his left hand，and with his right he picked up his cudgel，which was lying on the ground.
Thenardier noted the enormous size of the cudgel and the solitude of the spot.
The man plunged into the forest with the child，leaving the inn-keeper motionless and speechless.
While they were walking away，Thenardier scrutinized his huge shoulders，which were a little rounded，and his great fists.
Then，bringing his eyes back to his own person，they fell upon his feeble arms and his thin hands.
'I really must have been exceedingly stupid not to have thought to bring my gun，'he said to himself，'since I was going hunting！'
However，the inn-keeper did not give up.
'I want to know where he is going，'said he，and he set out to follow them at a distance.
Two things were left on his hands，an irony in the shape of the paper signed Fantine，and a consolation，the fifteen hundred francs.
The man led Cosette off in the direction of Livry and Bondy.He walked slowly，with drooping head，in an attitude of reflection and sadness.
The winter had thinned out the forest，so that Thenardier did not lose them from sight，although he kept at a good distance.The man turned round from time to time，and looked to see if he was being followed.
All at once he caught sight of Thenardier.He plunged suddenly into the brushwood with Cosette，where they could both hide themselves.
'The deuce！'said Thenardier，and he redoubled his pace.
The thickness of the undergrowth forced him to draw nearer to them.When the man had reached the densest part of the thicket，he wheeled round.
It was in vain that Thenardier sought to conceal himself in the branches；he could not prevent the man seeing him.The man cast upon him an uneasy glance，then elevated his head and continued his course.
The inn-keeper set out again in pursuit.Thus they continued for two or three hundred paces.
All at once the man turned round once more；he saw the inn-keeper.This time he gazed at him with so sombre an air that Thenardier decided that it was'useless'to proceed further.
Thenardier retraced his steps.
BOOK THIRD.——ACCOMPLISHMENT OF THE PROMISE MADE TO THE DEAD WOMAN
Ⅺ NUMBER 9，430 REAPPEARS，AND COSETTE WINS IT IN THE LOTTERY
Jean Valjean was not dead.
When he fell into the sea，or rather，when he threw himself into it，he was not ironed，as we have seen.
He swam under water until he reached a vessel at anchor，to which a boat was moored.He found means of hiding himself in this boat until night.At night he swam off again，and reached the shore a little way from Cape Brun.
There，as he did not lack money，he procured clothing.A small country-house in the neighborhood of Balaguier was at that time the dressing-room of escaped convicts，——a lucrative specialty.Then Jean Valjean，like all the sorry fugitives who are seeking to evade the vigilance of the law and social fatality，pursued an obscure and undulating itinerary.
He found his first refuge at Pradeaux，near Beausset.
Then he directed his course towards Grand-Villard，near Briancon，in the Hautes-Alpes.It was a fumbling and uneasy flight，——a mole's track，whose branchings are untraceable.
Later on，some trace of his passage into Ain，in the territory of Civrieux，was discovered；in the Pyrenees，at Accons；at the spot called Grange-de-Doumec，near the market of Chavailles，and in the environs of Perigueux at Brunies，canton of La Chapelle-Gonaguet.He reached Paris.We have just seen him at Montfermeil.
His first care on arriving in Paris had been to buy mourning clothes for a little girl of from seven to eight years of age；then to procure a lodging.
That done，he had betaken himself to Montfermeil.It will be remembered that already，during his preceding escape，he had made a mysterious trip thither，or somewhere in that neighborhood，of which the law had gathered an inkling.
However，he was thought to be dead，and this still further increased the obscurity which had gathered about him.
At Paris，one of the journals which chronicled the fact fell into his hands.He felt reassured and almost at peace，as though he had really been dead.
On the evening of the day when Jean Valjean rescued Cosette from the claws of the Thenardiers，he returned to Paris.
He re-entered it at nightfall，with the child，by way of the Barrier Monceaux.There he entered a cabriolet，which took him to the esplanade of the Observatoire.
There he got out，paid the coachman，took Cosette by the hand，and together they directed their steps through the darkness，——through the deserted streets which adjoin the Ourcine and the Glaciere，towards the Boulevard de l'Hopital.
The day had been strange and filled with emotions for Cosette.They had eaten some bread and cheese purchased in isolated taverns，behind hedges；they had changed carriages frequently；they had travelled short distances on foot.
She made no complaint，but she was weary，and Jean Valjean perceived it by the way she dragged more and more on his hand as she walked.
He took her on his back.Cosette，without letting go of Catherine，laid her head on Jean Valjean's shoulder，and there fell asleep.
BOOK FOURTH.——THE GORBEAU HOVEL
Ⅰ MASTER GORBEAU
Forty years ago，a rambler who had ventured into that unknown country of the Salpetriere，and who had mounted to the Barriere d'Italie by way of the boulevard，reached a point where it might be said that Paris disappeared.
It was no longer solitude，for there were passers-by；it was not the country，for there were houses and streets；it was not the city，for the streets had ruts like highways，and the grass grew in them；it was not a village，the houses were too lofty.
What was it，then？