The only thing was, that when she saw Jean Valjean again after these mournful four-and-twenty hours, she uttered such a cry of joy that any thoughtful person who had heard it would have divined in this cry an escape from a gulf. Fauchelevent belonged to the convent, and knew all the pass-words; hence doors readily opened to him, and thus was solved the double and startling problem, "how to get in, and how to get out." The porter, who had his instructions, opened the little gate which communicated between the court-yard and the garden, in the wall of the former facing the gateway, which might still be seen from the street twenty years ago. The porter showed them all three through this gate, and thence they reached the inner private parlor where Fauchelevent had received the orders of the prioress on the previous day. The prioress was waiting for them, rosary in hand, and a vocal mother, with her veil down, was standing near her. A discreet candle lit up, or to speak more correctly, pretended to light up the parlor. The prioress took a thorough look at Jean Valjean, for no eye examines like a drooping one. Then she questioned him. "Are you the brother?" "Yes, Reverend Mother," Fauchelevent answered. "What is your name?" Fauchelevent answered: "Ultime Fauchelevent." He had really had a brother of that name, who was dead. "Where do you come from?" _Fauchelevent._--"From Picquigny near Amiens." "What is your age?" _F._--"Fifty." "What is your trade?" _F._--"Gardener." "Are you a good Christian?" _F._--"All the members of our family are so." "Is this little girl yours?" _F._--"Yes, Reverend Mother." "Are you her father?" _F._--"Her grandfather." The vocal mother said to the prioress in a whisper, "He answers well." Jean Valjean had not said a word. The prioress looked attentively at Cosette, and whispered to the vocal mother, "She will be ugly." The two mothers consulted for a few minutes in a very low voice in a corner of the parlor, and then the prioress turned and said,-- "Father Fauvent, you will get another knee-cap and bell, for we shall require two in future." On the morrow two bells were really heard in the garden, and the nuns could not resist the temptation of raising a corner of their veils. They could see under the shade of the trees two men digging side by side, Fauvent and another. It was an enormous event; and silence was so far broken that they whispered, "It is an assistant gardener," while the vocal mothers added, "It is a brother of Father Fauvent's."