When the five men sent back to life had taken their departure, Enjolras thought of the man who had been condemned to death.

He entered the taproom. Javert, still bound to the post, was engaged in meditation.

“Do you want anything?” Enjolras asked him.

Javert replied: “When are you going to kill me?”

“Wait. We need all our cartridges just at present.”

“Then give me a drink,” said Javert.

Enjolras himself offered him a glass of water, and, as Javert was pinioned, he helped him to drink.

“Is that all?” inquired Enjolras.

“I am uncomfortable against this post,” replied Javert. “You are not tender to have left me to pass the night here. Bind me as you please, but you surely might lay me out on a table like that other man.”