"They are going away," he thought. "I am alone." All at once he heard over his head a noise which appeared to him like a thunder-clap; it was a spadeful of earth falling on the coffin; a second spadeful fell, and one of the holes by which he breathed was stopped; a third spadeful fell, and then a fourth. There are some things stronger than the strongest man, and Jean Valjean lost his senses. CHAPTER VII. FAUCHELEVENT HAS AN IDEA. This is what took place above the coffin which contained Jean Valjean. When the hearse had gone away, when the priest and the chorister had driven off in the coach, Fauchelevent, who did not once take his eyes off the grave-digger, saw him stoop down and seize his spade, which was standing upright in the heap of earth. Fauchelevent formed a supreme resolution; he placed himself between the grave and the digger, folded his arms, and said,-- "I'll pay." The grave-digger looked at him in amazement, and replied,-- "What, peasant?" Fauchelevent repeated, "I'll pay for the wine." "What wine?" "The Argenteuil." "Where is it?" "At the 'Bon Coing.'" "Go to the devil!" said the grave-digger. And he threw a spadeful of earth on the coffin, which produced a hollow sound. Fauchelevent tottered, and was himself ready to fall into the grave. He cried, in a voice with which a death-rattle was beginning to be mingled,-- "Come along, mate, before the 'Bon Coing' closes." The grave-digger filled his spade again, and Fauchelevent continued, "I'll pay." And he seized the grave-digger's arm. "Listen to me, mate; I am the convent grave-digger, and have come to help you. It is a job which can be done by night, so let us begin by having a drink." And while speaking, while clinging to this desperate pressing, he made the melancholy reflection, "And suppose he does drink, will he get drunk?" "Provincial," said the grave-digger, "since you are so pressing, I consent. We will drink, but after work, not before." And he raised his spade, but Fauchelevent restrained him. "It is Argenteuil wine." "Why," said the grave-digger, "you must be a bell-ringer; ding, dong, ding, dong. You can only say that. Go and have yourself pulled." And he threw the second spadeful. Fauchelevent had reached that moment when a man is no longer aware of what he says. "But come and drink," he cried, "since I offer to pay." "When we have put the child to bed," said Gribier. He threw the third spadeful; and then added as he dug the spade into the ground,-- "It will be very cold to-night, and the dead woman would halloo after us if we were to leave her here without a blanket." At this moment the grave-digger stooped to fill his spade and his jacket-pocket gaped. Fauchelevent's wandering glance fell mechanically into his pocket and remained there. The sun was not yet hidden by the horizon, and there was still sufficient light to distinguish something white at the bottom of this gaping pocket.