And in the first place，how explain the fifteen hundred francs which he had received？He turned squarely round，put a gag on his wife's mouth，and feigned astonishment when the stolen child was mentioned to him.He understood nothing about it；no doubt he had grumbled for awhile at having that dear little creature'taken from him'so hastily；he should have liked to keep her two or three days longer，out of tenderness；but her'grandfather'had come for her in the most natural way in the world.
He added the'grandfather，'which produced a good effect.
This was the story that Javert hit upon when he arrived at Montfermeil.
The grandfather caused Jean Valjean to vanish.
Nevertheless，Javert dropped a few questions，like plummets，into Thenardier's history.
'Who was that grandfather？and what was his name？'
Thenardier replied with simplicity：
'He is a wealthy farmer.I saw his passport.
I think his name was M.Guillaume Lambert.'
Lambert is a respectable and extremely reassuring name.Thereupon Javert returned to Paris.
'Jean Valjean is certainly dead，'said he，'and I am a ninny.'
He had again begun to forget this history，when，in the course of March，1824，he heard of a singular personage who dwelt in the parish of Saint-Medard and who had been surnamed'the mendicant who gives alms.'
This person，the story ran，was a man of means，whose name no one knew exactly，and who lived alone with a little girl of eight years，who knew nothing about herself，save that she had come from Montfermeil.
Montfermeil！that name was always coming up，and it made Javert prick up his ears.
An old beggar police spy，an ex-beadle，to whom this person had given alms，added a few more details.
This gentleman of property was very shy，——never coming out except in the evening，speaking to no one，except，occasionally to the poor，and never allowing any one to approach him.He wore a horrible old yellow frock-coat，which was worth many millions，being all wadded with bank-bills.This piqued Javert's curiosity in a decided manner.
In order to get a close look at this fantastic gentleman without alarming him，he borrowed the beadle's outfit for a day，and the place where the old spy was in the habit of crouching every evening，whining orisons through his nose，and playing the spy under cover of prayer.
'The suspected individual'did indeed approach Javert thus disguised，and bestow alms on him.
At that moment Javert raised his head，and the shock which Jean Valjean received on recognizing Javert was equal to the one received by Javert when he thought he recognized Jean Valjean.
However，the darkness might have misled him；Jean Valjean's death was official；Javert cherished very grave doubts；and when in doubt，Javert，the man of scruples，never laid a finger on any one's collar.
He followed his man to the Gorbeau house，and got'the old woman'to talking，which was no difficult matter.
The old woman confirmed the fact regarding the coat lined with millions，and narrated to him the episode of the thousand-franc bill.
She had seen it！She had handled it！
Javert hired a room；that evening he installed himself in it.
He came and listened at the mysterious lodger's door，hoping to catch the sound of his voice，but Jean Valjean saw his candle through the key-hole，and foiled the spy by keeping silent.
On the following day Jean Valjean decamped；but the noise made by the fall of the five-franc piece was noticed by the old woman，who，hearing the rattling of coin，suspected that he might be intending to leave，and made haste to warn Javert.
At night，when Jean Valjean came out，Javert was waiting for him behind the trees of the boulevard with two men.
Javert had demanded assistance at the Prefecture，but he had not mentioned the name of the individual whom he hoped to seize；that was his secret，and he had kept it for three reasons：in the first place，because the slightest indiscretion might put Jean Valjean on the alert；next，because，to lay hands on an ex-convict who had made his escape and was reputed dead，on a criminal whom justice had formerly classed forever as among malefactors of the most dangerous sort，was a magnificent success which the old members of the Parisian police would assuredly not leave to a new-comer like Javert，and he was afraid of being deprived of his convict；and lastly，because Javert，being an artist，had a taste for the unforeseen.
He hated those well-heralded successes which are talked of long in advance and have had the bloom brushed off.He preferred to elaborate his masterpieces in the dark and to unveil them suddenly at the last.
Javert had followed Jean Valjean from tree to tree，then from corner to corner of the street，and had not lost sight of him for a single instant；even at the moments when Jean Valjean believed himself to be the most secure Javert's eye had been on him.Why had not Javert arrested Jean Valjean？
Because he was still in doubt.
It must be remembered that at that epoch the police was not precisely at its ease；the free press embarrassed it；several arbitrary arrests denounced by the newspapers，had echoed even as far as the Chambers，and had rendered the Prefecture timid.
Interference with individual liberty was a grave matter.
The police agents were afraid of making a mistake；the prefect laid the blame on them；a mistake meant dismissal.The reader can imagine the effect which this brief paragraph，reproduced by twenty newspapers，would have caused in Paris：'Yesterday，an aged grandfather，with white hair，a respectable and well-to-do gentleman，who was walking with his grandchild，aged eight，was arrested and conducted to the agency of the Prefecture as an escaped convict！'
Let us repeat in addition that Javert had scruples of his own；injunctions of his conscience were added to the injunctions of the prefect.
He was really in doubt.
Jean Valjean turned his back on him and walked in the dark.
