Nevertheless, the hour, the place, the darkness, Jean Valjean’s absorption, his singular gestures, his goings and comings, all had begun to render Cosette uneasy. Any other child than she would have given vent to loud shrieks long before. She contented herself with plucking Jean Valjean by the skirt of his coat. They could hear the sound of the patrol’s approach ever more and more distinctly.

“Father,” said she, in a very low voice, “I am afraid. Who is coming yonder?”

“Hush!” replied the unhappy man; “it is Madame Thénardier.”

Cosette shuddered. He added:⁠—

“Say nothing. Don’t interfere with me. If you cry out, if you weep, the Thénardier is lying in wait for you. She is coming to take you back.”