"Good," he thought; "I have him, he is going to bribe me."
Before opening the portfolio the traveller looked around him; the place was utterly deserted, and there was not a soul in the wood or the valley. The man opened the pocket-book and took out, not the handful of bank-notes which Thénardier anticipated, but a simple sheet of paper, which he opened and handed to the landlord, saying,—
"You are right: read."
Thénardier took the paper and read:—
"M. sur M., March 25, 1823.
"MONSIEUR THÉNARDIER,—You will hand over Cosette to the bearer, who will pay up all little matters.Yours respectfully,
FANTINE."
"Do you know the signature?" the man continued.
It was really Fantine's, and Thénardier recognized it, and had no reply. He felt a double annoyance—first, at having to renounce the bribery which he expected; and secondly, that of being beaten. The man added,—
"You can keep that paper as your discharge."
Thénardier folded it up neatly, and growled,—
"The signature is tolerably well imitated. Well, be it so."