It was Jean Valjean's voice. He had not yet uttered a syllable; no one seemed to remember that he was present, and he stood motionless behind all these happy people. "Who is the Mademoiselle Euphrasie in question?" the startled grandfather asked. "Myself," said Cosette. "Six hundred thousand francs!" M. Gillenormand repeated. "Less fourteen or fifteen thousand, perhaps," Jean Valjean said. And he laid on the table the parcel which Aunt Gillenormand had taken for a book. Jean Valjean himself opened the packet; it was a bundle of bank-notes. They were turned over and counted; there were six hundred bank-notes for a thousand francs, and one hundred and sixty-eight for five hundred, forming a total of five hundred and eighty-four thousand francs. "That's a famous book," said M. Gillenormand. "Five hundred and eighty-four thousand francs!" the aunt murmured. "That arranges a good many things, does it not, Mademoiselle Gillenormand the elder?" the grandfather continued. "That devil of a Marius has found a millionnaire grisette upon the tree of dreams! Now trust to the amourettes of young people! Students find studentesses with six hundred thousand francs. Cherubin works better than Rothschild." "Five hundred and eighty-four thousand francs!" Mademoiselle Gillenormand repeated; "five hundred and eighty-four thousand francs! We may as well say six hundred thousand." As for Marius and Cosette, they were looking at each other during this period, and hardly paid any attention to this detail. CHAPTER V. DEPOSIT YOUR MONEY IN A FOREST RATHER THAN WITH A NOTARY.