CHAPTER III.
THE LARK.
It is not enough to be bad in order to prosper: and the pot-housewas a failure. Thanks to the fifty-seven francs, Th?nardier had beenable to avoid a protest, and honor his signature; but the next monththey wanted money again, and his wife took Cosette's outfit to Parisand pledged it for sixty francs. So soon as this sum was spent, theTh?nardiers grew accustomed to see in the little girl a child they hadtaken in through charity, and treated her accordingly. As she had noclothes, she was dressed in the left-off chemises and petticoats ofthe little Th?nardiers, that is to say, in rags. She was fed on theleavings of everybody, a little better than the dog, and a little worsethan the cat. Dog and cat were her usual company at dinner: for Cosetteate with them under the table off a wooden trencher like theirs.
The mother, who had settled, as we shall see hereafter, at M. sur M.,wrote, or, to speak more correctly, had letters written every monthto inquire after her child. The Th?nardiers invariably replied thatCosette was getting on famously. When the first six months had passed,the mother sent seven francs for the seventh month, and continued tosend the money punctually month by month. The year had not ended beforeTh?nardier said, "A fine thing that! what does she expect us to do withseven francs!" and he wrote to demand twelve. The mother, whom theypersuaded that her child was happy and healthy, submitted, and sent thetwelve francs.
Some natures cannot love on one side without hating on the other.Mother Th?nardier passionately loved her own two daughters, whichmade her detest the stranger. It is sad to think that a mother's lovecan look so ugly. Though Cosette occupied so little room, it seemedto her as if her children were robbed of it, and that the little onediminished the air her daughters breathed. This woman, like many womenof her class, had a certain amount of caresses and another of blowsand insults to expend daily. If she had not had Cosette, it is certainthat her daughters, though they were idolized, would have receivedthe entire amount; but the strange child did the service of divertingthe blows on herself, while the daughters received only the caresses.Cosette did not make a movement that did not bring down on her head ahailstorm of violent and unmerited chastisement. The poor weak child,unnecessarily punished, scolded, cuffed, and beaten, saw by her sidetwo little creatures like herself who lived in radiant happiness.
As Madame Th?nardier was unkind to Cosette, ?ponine and Azelma were thesame; for children, at that age, are copies of their mother; the formis smaller, that is all. A year passed, then another, and people saidin the village,--
"Those Th?nardiers are worthy people. They are not well off, and yetthey bring up a poor child left on their hands."
Cosette was supposed to be deserted by her mother; Th?nardier, however,having learned in some obscure way that the child was probablyillegitimate, and that the mother could not confess it, insisted onfifteen francs a month, saying that the creature was growing andeating, and threatening to send her back. "She must not play the foolwith me," he shouted, "or I'll let her brat fall like a bomb-shell intoher hiding-place. I must have an increase." The mother paid the fifteenfrancs. Year by year the child grew, and so did her wretchedness: solong as Cosette was little, she was the scape-goat of the two otherchildren; so soon as she began to be developed a little, that is tosay, even before she was five years old, she became the servant ofthe house. At five years, the reader will say, that is improbable;but, alas! it is true. Social suffering begins at any age. Have we notrecently seen the trial of a certain Dumollard, an orphan, who turnedbandit, and who from the age of five, as the official documents tellus, was alone in the world and "worked for a living and stole"? Cosettewas made to go on messages, sweep the rooms, the yard, the street, washthe dishes, and even carry heavy bundles. The Th?nardiers consideredthemselves the more justified in acting thus, because the mother, whowas still at M. sur M., was beginning to pay badly, and was severalmonths in arrear.
If the mother had returned to Montfermeil at the end of three years,she would not have recognized her child. Cosette, so pretty and ruddyon her arrival in this house, was now thin and sickly. She had a timidlook about her; "It's cunning!" said the Th?nardiers. Injustice hadmade her sulky and wretchedness had made her ugly. Nothing was left herbut her fine eyes, which were painful to look at, because, as they wereso large, it seemed as if a greater amount of sadness was visible inthem. It was a heart-rending sight to see this poor child, scarce sixyears of age, shivering in winter under her calico rags, and sweepingthe street before day-break, with an enormous broom in her small redhands and a tear in her large eyes.
The country people called her "the lark;" the lower classes, who arefond of metaphors, had given the name to the poor little creature, whowas no larger than a bird, trembling, frightened, and starting, who wasalways the first awake in the house and the village, and ever in thestreet or the fields by day-break.
There was this difference, however,--this poor lark never sung.
BOOK V.
THE DESCENT.