Before opening the pocketbook, the traveller cast a glance about him: the spot was absolutely deserted; there was not a soul either in the woods or in the valley. The man opened his pocketbook once more and drew from it, not the handful of bills which Thénardier expected, but a simple little paper, which he unfolded and presented fully open to the innkeeper, saying:⁠—

“You are right; read!”

Thénardier took the paper and read:⁠—