that is clear.”
The man, without making any reply, fumbled in his pocket, and Thénardier beheld the pocketbook of bank-bills make its appearance once more.
The tavern-keeper shivered with joy.
“Good!” thought he; “let us hold firm; he is going to bribe me!”
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:—
Monsieur Thénardier:—
You will deliver Cosette to this person. You will be paid for all the little things. I have the honor to salute you with respect,