"Monseigneur," said the brigadier of gendarmes, "so what this man
said is true, then? We came across him. He was walking like a man
who is running away. We stopped him to look into the matter.
He had this silver--"

"And he told you," interposed the Bishop with a smile, "that it
had been given to him by a kind old fellow of a priest with whom
he had passed the night? I see how the matter stands. And you
have brought him back here? It is a mistake."

"In that case," replied the brigadier, "we can let him go?"

"Certainly," replied the Bishop.

The gendarmes released Jean Valjean, who recoiled.

"Is it true that I am to be released?" he said, in an almost
inarticulate voice, and as though he were talking in his sleep.

"Yes, thou art released; dost thou not understand?" said one
of the gendarmes.

"My friend," resumed the Bishop, "before you go, here are
your candlesticks. Take them."

He stepped to the chimney-piece, took the two silver candlesticks,
and brought them to Jean Valjean. The two women looked on without
uttering a word, without a gesture, without a look which could
disconcert the Bishop.