Les Miserables Read Online Free PDF

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    Fabantou greeted me wearing my overcoat and smiling meekly. I put eighty francs on the table.
    â€œFor your rent and other immediate needs, Monsieur Fabantou,” I said. “We will talk about what else you need.”
    â€œMay God reward you, most generous sir,” said Fabantou. He snatched the money off the table.
    I sat down. “How is the hurt child?” I asked.
    â€œNot well,” replied Fabantou. “She’s in great pain. Her sister took her to the hospital.”
    â€œMadame Fabantou seems much better,” I said, looking her way.
    She was standing at the door with her arms crossed. She looked as if she would not let me leave if I wanted to.
    â€œOh, she’s very sick,” said Fabantou. “But you’d never know it. She’s so brave. She’s more than a woman—she’s an ox.”
    Madame Fabantou was pleased by her husband’s words.
    â€œYou always say the nicest things to me, Monsieur Jondrette.” She smiled a shy smile.
    â€œJondrette?” I said. “I thought your name was Fabantou.”
    â€œIt’s both,” said Fabantou, quickly. “Jondrette is my stage name.”
    I was beginning to see that things were not as they seemed. Then I noticed two men in the shadows.
    â€œWho are those men?” I asked.
    â€œPay no attention to them,” said Fabantou. “They’re just neighbors.”
    â€œAs I was about to say, my most noble patron,” continued Fabantou. “I have a picture for sale.”
    There was a sound at the door. Two more men came into the room. They sat on the bed. The men’s faces were covered in soot.
    â€œDon’t worry about them,” said Fabantou. “They’re furnacemen. They have dirty faces because they do dirty work. As I was saying, I want to show you a valuable picture.”
    Fabantou turned around a picture thathad been facing the wall. Light from the candle shone on it.
    â€œWhat on earth is it?” I asked.
    The men were watching me. I was uneasy.
    â€œThis is a masterpiece, my dear sir,” replied Fabantou. “I cherish this picture as much as my own daughters. But sad to say, I am forced to sell it. What do you think it’s worth?”
    â€œIt’s an old inn sign,” I said. “It’s worth about three francs.”
    The paint was chipped and peeling, but I knew the sign. I could still make out THE SERGEANT OF WATERLOO in faint letters. Underneath the letters was a picture of a soldier carrying another soldier on his back.
    It was hard to believe the man before me could be the innkeeper—the man called Thénardier.
    â€œI will accept a thousand francs for this sign,” he said.
    I was caught in a trap. Escape wouldn’t be easy.
    â€œI won’t accept one franc less. I hope you have your wallet on you.”
    The man grinned wickedly.
    I rose from my chair and stood with my back to the wall. I looked around the room.
    Thénardier stood near the window with two of the four men. His wife stood near the door with the other two. The trap was a tight one.
    Suddenly Thénardier jumped at me. His eyes were blazing with anger. His fists were clenched.
    â€œDon’t you know me?” he screamed. “Don’t you recognize me?”
    â€œNo,” I replied calmly.
    Just then the door swung open. Three more men entered, wearing black masks. One carried a heavy stick. The other had a butcher’s axe.
    â€œIs everything ready?” Thénardier asked them.
    â€œYes,” said one of the men.
    Thénardier came close, then thrust his face into mine.
    â€œDon’t you recognize me? My name isn’t Fabantou or Jondrette. My name is Thénardier. Recognize me now?”
    â€œNo more than before,” I replied. My eyes gave nothing away. I needed to buy time.
    â€œYour goose is cooked, my noble patron!” Thénardier spat out the words. “You’re spitted and roasted, my