"Well, then," said the Bishop, "wood!"
A few minutes later he was breakfasting at the same table at which Jean Valjean sat on the previous evening. While breakfasting Monseigneur Welcome gayly remarked to his sister, who said nothing, and to Madame Magloire, who growled in a low voice, that spoon and fork, even of wood, are not required to dip a piece of bread in a cup of milk.
"What an idea!" Madame Magloire said, as she went backwards and forwards, "to receive a man like that, and lodge him by one's side. And what a blessing it is that he only stole! Oh, Lord! the mere thought makes a body shudder."
As the brother and sister were leaving the table there was a knock at the door.
"Come in," said the Bishop.
The door opened, and a strange and violent group appeared on the threshold. Three men were holding a fourth by the collar. The three men were gendarmes, the fourth was Jean Valjean. A corporal, who apparently commanded the party, came in and walked up to the Bishop with a military salute.
"Monseigneur," he said.
At this word Jean Valjean, who was gloomy and crushed, raised his head with a stupefied air.
"'Monseigneur,'" he muttered; "then he is not the Curé."
"Silence!" said a gendarme. "This gentleman is Monseigneur the Bishop."