“Listen,” resumed Madeleine; “there is still room enough under the cart to allow a man to crawl beneath it and raise it with his back. Only half a minute, and the poor man can be taken out. Is there anyone here who has stout loins and heart? There are five louis d’or to be earned!”
Not a man in the group stirred.
“Ten louis,” said Madeleine.
The persons present dropped their eyes. One of them muttered: “A man would need to be devilish strong. And then he runs the risk of getting crushed!”
“Come,” began Madeleine again, “twenty louis.”
The same silence.
“It is not the will which is lacking,” said a voice.
M. Madeleine turned round, and recognized Javert. He had not noticed him on his arrival.
Javert went on:—
“It is strength. One would have to be a terrible man to do such a thing as lift a cart like that on his back.”
Then, gazing fixedly at M. Madeleine, he went on, emphasizing every word that he uttered:—
“Monsieur Madeleine, I have never known but one man capable of doing what you ask.”
Madeleine shuddered.
Javert added, with an air of indifference, but without removing his eyes from Madeleine:—