Cosette plunged her hand into the pocket of her apron and turned green: the coin was no longer in it.
"Well," her mistress said, "did you not hear me?"
Cosette turned her pocket out, but there was nothing in it: what could have become of the money? The wretched little creature could not find a word to say; she was petrified.
"Have you lost it," her mistress asked, "or are you trying to rob me?"
At the same time she stretched out her hand to the cat-o'-nine-tails; this formidable gesture restored Cosette the strength to cry,—
"Mercy, Madame! I will never do it again."
Madame Thénardier took down the whip.
The man in the yellow coat had been feeling in his waistcoat pocket, though no one noticed it. Moreover, the other guests were drinking or card-playing, and paid no attention to him. Cosette had retreated in agony to the chimney-corner, shivering to make herself as little as she could, and protect her poor half-naked limbs. Her mistress raised her arm.
"I beg your pardon, Madame," said the man, "but just now I saw something fall out of the little girl's pocket and roll away. It may be that."
At the same time he stooped and appeared to be searching for a moment.