"What is it?" Marius more and more examined the man while listening. "I will begin gratis," the stranger said; "you will soon see that it is interesting." "Speak." "Monsieur le Baron, you have in your house a robber and an assassin." Marius gave a start. "In my house? No," he said. The stranger imperturbably brushed his hat with his arm, and went on. "An assassin and a robber. Remark, M. le Baron, that I am not speaking here of old-forgotten facts, which might be effaced by prescription before the law--by repentance before God. I am speaking of recent facts, present facts, of facts still unknown to justice. I continue. This man has crept into your confidence, and almost into your family, under a false name. I am going to tell you his real name, and tell it you for nothing." "I am listening." "His name is Jean Valjean." "I know it." "I will tell, equally for nothing, who he is." "Speak." "He is an ex-convict." "I know it." "You have known it since I had the honor of telling you." "No, I was aware of it before." Marius's cold tone, this double reply, "I know it," and his stubborn shortness in the conversation aroused some latent anger in the stranger, and he gave Marius a furious side-glance, which was immediately extinguished. Rapid though it was, the glance was one of those which are recognized if they have once been seen, and it did not escape Marius. Certain flashes can only come from certain souls; the eyeball, that cellar-door of the soul, is lit up by them, and green spectacles conceal nothing; you might as well put up a glass window to hell. The stranger continued, smiling,-- "I will not venture to contradict M. le Baron, but in any case you will see that I am well informed. Now, what I have to tell you is known to myself alone, and it affects the fortune of Madame la Baronne. It is an extraordinary secret, and is for sale. I offer it you first. Cheap! twenty thousand francs." "I know that secret as I know the other," said Marius. The personage felt the necessity of lowering his price a little. "Monsieur le Baron, let us say ten thousand francs, and I will speak." "I repeat to you that you have nothing to tell me. I know what you want to say to me." There was a fresh flash in the man's eye, as he continued,-- "Still, I must dine to-day. It is an extraordinary secret, I tell you. Monsieur, I am going to speak. I am speaking. Give me twenty francs." Marius looked at him fixedly. "I know your extraordinary secret, just as I knew Jean Valjean's name, and as I know yours." "My name?" "Yes." "That is not difficult, M. le Baron, for I had the honor of writing it and mentioning it to you. Thénard--" "--dier." "What?" "Thénardier." "What does this mean?" In danger the porcupine bristles, the beetle feigns death, the old guard forms a square. This man began laughing. Then he flipped a grain of dust off his coat-sleeve. Marius continued,--