And he made Jean Valjean a sign to listen. A second stroke rang out.
"It is the passing bell, Monsieur Madeleine. The bell will go on so minute after minute for twenty-four hours, till the body leaves the church. You see they play about; at recreations they need only lose a ball, and in spite of the prohibition, they will come and look for it here and ransack everything. Those cherubs are little devils."
"Who?" Jean Valjean asked.
"The little ones; I can tell you that you would soon be discovered. They would cry out, 'Why, it's a man!' But there is no danger to-day, for there will be no recreation. The day will be spent in prayer. You hear the bell, as I told you, one stroke a minute;—it is the knell."
"I understand, Father Fauchelevent, they are boarders."
And Jean Valjean thought to himself:
"It is a chance for educating Cosette."
Fauchelevent exclaimed,—
"By Job, I should think they are boarders! They would sniff around you, and then run away. To be a man here is to have the plague, as you can see; a bell is fastened to my paw as if I were a wild beast."
Jean Valjean reflected more and more deeply. "This convent would save us," he muttered, and then added aloud,—