"As for exaggerating, I am not doing so, for this is how I reason. I suspected you unjustly; that is nothing: it is the duty of men like myself to suspect, though there is an abuse in suspecting those above us. But, without proofs, in a moment of passion and for the purpose of revenge, I denounced you, a respectable man, a mayor and a magistrate; this is serious, very serious,--I, an agent of the authority, insulted that authority in your person. Had any of my subordinates done what I have done, I should have declared him unworthy of the service and discharged him. Stay, Monsieur le Maire, one word more. I have often been severe in my life to others, for it was just, and I was doing my duty, and if I were not severe to myself now, all the justice I have done would become injustice. Ought I to spare myself more than others? No. What! I have been only good to punish others and not myself? Why, I should be a scoundrel, and the people who call me that rogue of a Javert, would be in the right! M. le Maire, I do not wish you to treat me with kindness, for your kindness caused me sufficient ill-blood when dealt to others, and I want none for myself. The kindness that consists in defending the street-walker against the gentleman, the police agent against the Mayor, the lower classes against the higher, is what I call bad kindness, and it is such kindness that disorganizes society. Good Lord! it is easy enough to be good, but the difficulty is to be just. Come! if you had been what I believed you, I should not have been kind to you, as you would have seen. M. le Maire, I am bound to treat myself as I would treat another man; when I repressed malefactors, when I was severe with scamps, I often said to myself, "If you ever catch yourself tripping, look out," I have tripped, I have committed a fault, and all the worse for me. I have strong arms and will turn laborer. M. le Maire, the good of the service requires an example. I simply demand the discharge of Inspector Javert." All this was said with a humble, proud, despairing, and convinced accent, which gave a peculiar grandeur to this strangely honest man. "We will see," said M. Madeleine, and he offered him his hand; but Javert fell back, and said sternly,-- "Pardon me, sir, but that must not be; a mayor ought not to give his hand to a spy." He added between his teeth,-- "Yes, a spy; from the moment when I misused my authority, I have been only a spy." Then he bowed deeply and walked to the door. When he reached it he turned round and said, with eyes still bent on the ground,-- "M. le Maire, I will continue on duty till my place is filled up." He went out. M. Madeleine thoughtfully listened to his firm, sure step as he walked along the paved passage. BOOK VII THE CHAMPMATHIEU AFFAIR. CHAPTER I. SISTER SIMPLICE.