'Look,' said Madeleine. 'There's still room for a man to crawl under the cart and lift it on his back. In half a minute the old man can be pulled out. Is there anyone here with the muscle and the heart? I'm offering five louis d'or.' No one moved. 'Ten,' said Madeleine. The bystanders avoided his gaze. One of them uttered: 'He'd have to be devilish strong. He'd risk being crushed himself.' 'Come!' said Madeleine. 'Twenty.' There was still no response. 'It's not that we don't want to,' a voice said. Monsieur Madeleine turned and recognized Javert. He had not noticed him before. 'It's a question of strength,' Javert went on. 'You need to be tremendously strong to lift a load like that on your back.' With his eyes fixed on Madeleine he said slowly: 'I have known only one man, Monsieur Madeleine, capable of doing what you ask.' Madeleine started. Still with his eyes upon him, Javert added casually: 'He was a convict.' 'Ah,' said Madeleine. 'In Toulon prison.' Madeleine turned pale. Meanwhile the cart was sinking and Père Fauchelevent was gasping and crying: 'I'm suffocating. My ribs are breaking. For God's sake, do something!' Madeleine looked about him. 'Is there no one prepared to save this man's life for twenty louis d'or?' No one moved. Javert repeated: 'I have known only one man capable of doing the work of a jack. The man I mentioned.' Madeleine hesitated for another instant, met with that vulture gaze of Javert, looked round at the motionless bystanders, and smiled sadly. Without a word he went on his knees and before anyone could speak was under the cart. There was a moment of hideous uncertainty and silence. Madeleine, almost flat on his stomach beneath that terrifying weight, was seen to makes two fruitless efforts to bring his elbows and knees together. A voice cried, 'Père Madeleine, come out of there!' Old Fauchelevent himself cried: 'Go away, Monsieur Madeleine! I'm done for. Let me be or you'll be killed too.' Madeleine said nothing. The onlookers stood breathless. The cart wheels were still sinking and it was already almost impossible for Madeleine to extricate himself. Then suddenly the cart with its load was seen to rise slowly upward, its wheels emerging from the quagmire. Crying in a stifled voice, 'Hurry up! Help me!' Madeleine made his supreme effort. There was a sudden rush. The gallantry of a single man had lent strength and courage to all. The cart was lifted by ten pairs of arms and old Fauchelevent was saved. Madeleine got to his feet. He was white although his face was running with sweat. His clothes were torn and caked with mud. The old man clasped him round the knees invoking the name of God. His own expression was an indescribable mingling of distress and triumph, and he gazed calmly back at Javert, who was still fixedly regarding him.

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