Shortly after the mayor left for Arras, Fantine awoke. She had passed a long, difficult night.
"How are you this morning?" asked Sister Simplice, one of two nuns who worked at the infirmary.
"I want to see Mayor Madeleine," Fantine said weakly.
"Later," said Sister Simplice. "You know he comes to visit you every day promptly at three o’clock."
Fantine rested for the next several hours, but by two thirty she was agitated and kept asking Sister Simplice the time. The clock struck three. Fantine, who was usually too weak to turn over in bed, sat up and looked at the door. Nobody came in; the door did not open. Finally after 15 minutes of anticipation, Fantine lay down.
Sister Simplice was surprised that the mayor was late. At six o’clock she sent a servant to the factory to ask if the mayor would soon be coming to the infirmary. The servant returned and reported that Madeleine had left by carriage early that morning.
"I can hear you talking about Mayor Madeleine!" Fantine called out. "Why hasn’t he come?"
"He has gone away," said Sister Simplice.
Fantine sprang up and sat on the edge of her bed. "He must have gone to fetch Cosette! I think they’ll be back by tomorrow, don’t you?"
Sister Simplice did not contradict Fantine but helped her back under the covers. "You are very sick, my child. Try to rest and don’t talk."
Fantine fell asleep with a smile on her face. The doctor arrived at about eight o’clock, and Fantine opened her eyes as he took her pulse.
"Oh, there’s no need for that," she said. "I’m cured! Cosette is coming tomorrow!"
The doctor was surprised to find that Fantine really did appear to be better. Her pulse was stronger, and new life seemed to flow through the seriously ill young woman. As the doctor left, he said to Sister Simplice, "If the mayor does bring Cosette tomorrow, who knows what will happen? I’ve seen happiness cure some people, and perhaps it will do so in this case."
Meanwhile the mayor had finally reached Arras at eight o’clock that night. The lights were still on in the courthouse, so he went inside. A police officer stood near the closed door of the courtroom.
"You can’t go in, monsieur," said the policeman. "The courtroom is full."
"What? There are no more seats?"
The policeman hesitated. "There are some seats behind the judge, but he only allows public officials to sit there."
Madeleine crossed the hall and went slowly down the stairs. He seemed to hesitate on every step. When he reached the landing, he stopped and wrote Mayor Madeleine on a piece of paper. Then he went back and handed this paper to the policeman.
"Take that to the judge," said the mayor in a commanding voice.
The policeman showed the paper to the judge and whispered, "This gentleman would like to witness the trial."
The judge was familiar with Mayor Madeleine’s name and knew that he was universally admired. "Allow him to enter," said the judge.
A few minutes later Madeleine followed the policeman into the courtroom and took a seat behind the judge. Terrified that someone might see him, he slouched behind a pile of the judge’s papers, where he was still able to view most of the courtroom. He noticed that Monsieur Bamatabois, who had thrown the snow at Fantine, was one of the jurors.
Madeleine stared at the accused man, Champmathieu. He felt as if he were looking at an older version of himself. There was definitely a resemblance between the two men. The prosecuting attorney started questioning Champmathieu.
"First, did you climb the wall, break off the tree branch, and steal the apples? And second, are you the former convict known as Jean Valjean?"
"I never stole anything!" said Champmathieu. "I found the broken branch on the ground and picked it up, little knowing what trouble it would cause me. You talk about someone named Jean Valjean, but I don’t know who that is. My name is Champmathieu."
The prosecuting attorney addressed the judge. "Since the accused man is denying the charges, we request that you call the convicts, Brevet, Cochepaille, and Chenildieu, to the witness stand. I would like to ask them—as well as the police officer Javert—to identify this man."
"As you recall," said the judge, "we gave Javert permission to leave after he made his statement. But I will call the others."
The three convicts were led into the courtroom, and the judge asked each of them to identify the accused man. The convicts were all certain that the man was Jean Valjean.
"Prisoner, you have listened to these men identify you as Jean Valjean," said the judge. "What do you have to say?"
The confused old man simply laughed. A buzz of noise filled the courtroom as the spectators started talking. It was obvious that Champmathieu was going to be found guilty.
"Officers, enforce order in the court!" said the judge. "I’m about to sum up the case."
At this moment there was a movement near the judge. Mayor Madeleine slowly stood up and walked to the center of the courtroom. "Brevet, Chenildieu, and Cochepaille, look at me!"
The judge, Monsieur Bamatabois, and a dozen other people in the courtroom all exclaimed at once, "Mayor Madeleine!"
"Don’t you recognize me?" he said to the three prisoners. All three looked confused and indicated with a shake of the head that they did not know him.
Madeleine turned toward the judge. "Your Honor, release the accused man and order my arrest. He is not the man whom you seek because I am Jean Valjean."
The courtroom went totally silent.
The judge gave the mayor a look of pity. "Is there a doctor here? Mayor Madeleine appears to be ill."
"Thank you, Your Honor," said the mayor, "but I am not ill. You were on the verge of making a huge mistake, and I will prove it to you." Then Madeleine turned back to the three convicts.
"Brevet, do you remember those checkered knit suspenders you always wore on the prison ship?"
Brevet started as if struck by lightning.
"Chenildieu," said the mayor, "you have a large scar on your left shoulder, don’t you?"
"That’s true!" exclaimed Chenildieu.
"And, Cochepaille, you have a blue tattoo on your left arm with the date March 1, 1815."
Cochepaille rolled up his sleeve and revealed the tattoo.
The unhappy mayor addressed the entire courtroom. "You can clearly see that I am Jean Valjean, and I admit that I robbed the chimney sweep Little Gervais." He gave a smile of triumph, but it was also a smile of despair.
Everyone in the courtroom was stunned, and no one seemed to know what to do.
"I won’t disturb this trial anymore," continued Valjean. "I am leaving because I have not been arrested, and I have many things to do. The prosecuting attorney knows who I am and where I live, so he’ll have me arrested when he chooses."
Valjean left the courtroom, and less than an hour later, all charges were dropped against Champmathieu.