Join Host Bree Carlile as she reads the one hundred forty-fifth chapter of Les Miserables.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Take a look, in the book and let's see

what we can find.

Take it chapter by chapter. One

fight M at a time

so many adventures and

mountains we can climb

to give word for word, line by

line, one bite at a time.

>> Brie Carlisle: Welcome to bite at a time books where we read you your

favorite classics one byte at a time. my name is

Bre Carlisle and I love to read and wanted to

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>> Brie Carlisle: Values today well be

continuing.

Le miserable by Victor Hugo

chapter eight a successful

interrogatory an

hour later, in the darkness of the night, two men

and a child presented themselves at number 62.

Repetit picpus. The elder of the men,

lifted the knocker and wrapped. They were

Fauchelevert, Jean Valjean, and

Cosette. The two old men had gone to

fetch Cosette from the fruiters in the rue du

Cheminvre where Fauchelevert had deposited her

on the preceding day. Cosette had passed these

24 hours trembling slightly and understanding

nothing. She trembled to such a degree that

she wept. She had neither eaten nor

slept. The worthy fruit seller had plied her with

a hundred questions without obtaining any other reply than a

melancholy and unvarying gaze.

Cosette had betrayed nothing of what she had seen and

heard during the last two days. She

divined that they were passing through a crisis. She

was deeply conscious that it was necessary to be good.

Who has not experienced the sovereign power of those two words,

pronounced with a certain accent in the ear of a terrified little

being, say nothing. Fear

is mute. Moreover, no one guards a

secret like a child. But when, at the

expiration of these lugubrious 24 hours,

she beheld Jean Valjean again, she gave

vent to such a cry of joy that any thoughtful

person who had chanced to hear that cry would have

guessed that it issued from an abyss.

Fauchelevent belonged to the convent and knew the

passwords. All the doors opened.

Thus was solved the double and alarming problem of how

to get out and how to get in. The porter

who had received his instructions, opened the little servants door,

which connected the courtyard with the garden and which could

still be seen from the street 20 years ago in the wall at the

bottom of the court, which faced the carriage entrance.

The porter admitted all three of them through the store, and from

that point they reached the inner reserved parlor, where

Fauchelevert, on the preceding day had received

his orders from the prioress. The

prioress, rosary in hand, was waiting for

them. A vocal mother, with her veil lowered, stood

beside her. A discreet, candle lighted,

one might almost say, made a show of lighting the

parlor. The prioress passed Jean

Valjean in review. Theres nothing which

examines like a downcast eye. Then, she

questioned him. You are the brother?

Yes, Reverend Mother, replied

Fauchelevert. What is your name?

Fochle, vert replied. Old time

fochlevert. He really had had a brother

named Oldheim who was dead. Where do you

come from? Fochlevert replied,

from Picqueny, near Amiens. What is

your age? Fauchelevent replied,

50. what is your profession?

Fauchelevent replied, gardner,

are you a good Christian? Fauchelevert

replied, everyone is in the family. is this

your little girl? Fauchelever replied,

yes, Reverend Mother. You are her

father? Fauchelever replied, her

grandfather. The vocal mother said to the

prioress in a low voice, he

answers well. Jean Valjean

had not uttered a single word. The prioress looked

attentively at Cosette and said half aloud to the vocal

mother, she will grow up ugly.

The two mothers consulted for a few moments in very low tones

in the corner of the parlor. Then the prioress

turned round and said, Father Fauvur,

he will get another kneecap with a bella. Two will

be required. Now. On the following day,

therefore, two bells were audible in the garden, and the

nuns could not resist the temptation to raise the corner of their

veils. At the extreme end of the garden,

under the trees, two men fauver

and another man were visible as they dug side by

side, an enormous event. Their

silence was broken to the extent of saying to each other, he is

an assistant gardener. The vocal mothers

added, he has a brother of father

Fauver. Jean Valjean was,

in fact regularly installed. He had

his belt kneecap. Henceforth he was official.

His name was old time Fauchelevert. The

most powerful determining cause of his admission had been

the prioress's observation upon Cosette. She will

grow up ugly. The prioress, that

pronounced prognosticator, immediately took a fancy to

Cosette and gave her a place in the school as a charity

pupil. Theres nothing that is not strictly

logical about this. It is in vain that

mirrors are banished from the convent. Women are

conscious of their faces now. Girls who are

conscious of their beauty do not easily become nuns,

the vocation being voluntary in inverse proportion to

their good looks. More is to be hoped from the ugly

than from the pretty. Hence a lively taste

for plain girls. The whole of this

adventure increased the importance of good old

Fauchelever. He won a triple success

in the eyes of Jean Valjean, whom he had saved and

sheltered in those of gravedigger Gribier, who

said to himself, he spared me that fine with a

convent, which being enabled, thanks to him, to retain

the coffin of mother crucifixion. Under the altar

alluded Caesar and satisfied God

there was a coffin containing a body in the petite picpus and

a coffin without a body in the vaudrer

cemetery. Public order had no doubt been

deeply disturbed thereby, but. But no one was aware of

it as, for the convent, its

gratitude to Fauchelevert was very great.

Fauchelevert became the best of servitors and the most

precious of gardeners. Upon the occasion of

the archbishops next visit, the prioress recounted the

affair to his grace, making something of a

confession at the same time, and yet boasting of

her deed. On leaving the convent, the

archbishop mentioned it with approval and. And in a

whisper to Monsieur de l'Autil, monsieur's

confessor, afterwards archbishop of

Rheims and cardinal. This admiration

for Fauchelevert became widespread, for it made

its way to Rome. We've seen a note addressed

by the then reigning pope, Leo XII, to one

of his relatives, Monseigneur in the nuncio's establishment

in Paris, and bearing, like himself, the

name of Delaginga, it contained these

lines. It appears that there is in a

convent in Paris an excellent gardener who is also

a holy man named Fauver.

Nothing of this triumph reached Fauchelevent his

hut. He went on grafting, weeding, and covering

up his melon beds without in the least suspecting his

excellences and his sanctity.

Neither did he suspect his glory any more than a

Durham or Surrey bull whose portrait is published

in the London Illustrated news with this inscription

bull, which carried off the prize at the cattle show.

Thank you for joining bite at a time books today while

we read a bite of one of your favorite classics.

Again, my name is Brie Carlisle and

I hope you come back tomorrow for the next bite

of Le Miserable.

>> Brie Carlisle: Dont forget to sign up for our

newsletter@biteoutimebooks.com comma and

check out the shop. You can check out the show notes

or our website, byteadittimebooks.com

for the rest of the links for our show. wed love to hear from you

on social media as well.

>> Brie Carlisle: take a look and a broken let's

see what we can find

take it chapter by chapter,

one at a time

so many adventures and

mountains we can climb

line by line, one bite at a time.