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et's mistress in the Salpetriere。 A biscuit； in the shady symbolism of prisons； signifies：
Nothing to be done。
So that in less than a week from that time； as Brujon and Babet met in the circle of La Force； the one on his way to the examination； the other on his way from it：
〃Well？〃 asked Brujon； 〃the Rue P。？〃
〃Biscuit；〃 replied Babet。
Thus did the foetus of crime engendered by Brujon in La Force miscarry。
This miscarriage had its consequences； however； which were perfectly distinct from Brujon's programme。
The reader will see what they were。
Often when we think we are knotting one thread； we are tying quite another。
BOOK SECOND。EPONINE
CHAPTER III
APPARITION TO FATHER MABEUF
Marius no longer went to see any one； but he sometimes encountered Father Mabeuf by chance。
While Marius was slowly descending those melancholy steps which may be called the cellar stairs； and which lead to places without light； where the happy can be heard walking overhead； M。 Mabeuf was descending on his side。
The Flora of Cauteretz no longer sold at all。
The experiments on indigo had not been successful in the little garden of Austerlitz； which had a bad exposure。
M。 Mabeuf could cultivate there only a few plants which love shade and dampness。
Nevertheless； he did not bee discouraged。
He had obtained a corner in the Jardin des Plantes； with a good exposure； to make his trials with indigo 〃at his own expense。〃
For this purpose he had pawned his copperplates of the Flora。
He had reduced his breakfast to two eggs； and he left one of these for his old servant； to whom he had paid no wages for the last fifteen months。
And often his breakfast was his only meal。 He no longer smiled with his infantile smile； he had grown morose and no longer received visitors。
Marius did well not to dream of going thither。
Sometimes； at the hour when M。 Mabeuf was on his way to the Jardin des Plantes； the old man and the young man passed each other on the Boulevard de l'Hopital。 They did not speak； and only exchanged a melancholy sign of the head。
A heart…breaking thing it is that there es a moment when misery looses bonds！ Two men who have been friends bee two chance passers…by。
Royal the bookseller was dead。
M。 Mabeuf no longer knew his books； his garden； or his indigo：
these were the three forms which happiness； pleasure； and hope had assumed for him。
This sufficed him for his living。
He said to himself：
〃When I shall have made my balls of blueing； I shall be rich； I will withdraw my copperplates from the pawn…shop； I will put my Flora in vogue again with trickery； plenty of money and advertisements in the newspapers and I will buy； I know well where； a copy of Pierre de Medine's Art de Naviguer； with wood…cuts； edition of 1655。〃
In the meantime； he toiled all day over his plot of indigo； and at night he returned home to water his garden； and to read his books。
At that epoch； M。 Mabeuf was nearly eighty years of age。
One evening he had a singular apparition。
He had returned home while it was still broad daylight。 Mother Plutarque； whose health was declining； was ill and in bed。 He had dined on a bone； on which a little meat lingered； and a bit of bread that he had found on the kitchen table； and had seated himself on an overturned stone post； which took the place of a bench in his garden。
Near this bench there rose； after the fashion in orchard…gardens； a sort of large chest； of beams and planks； much dilapidated； a rabbit…hutch on the ground floor； a fruit…closet on the first。 There was nothing in the hutch； but there were a few apples in the fruit…closet；the remains of the winter's provision。
M。 Mabeuf had set himself to turning over and reading； with the aid of his glasses； two books of which he was passionately fond and in which； a serious thing at his age； he was interested。 His natural timidity rendered him accessible to the acceptance of superstitions in a certain degree。
The first of these books was the famous treatise of President Delancre； De l'inconstance des Demons； the other was a quarto by Mutor de la Rubaudiere； Sur les Diables de Vauvert et les Gobelins de la Bievre。
This last…mentioned old volume interested him all the more； because his garden had been one of the spots haunted by goblins in former times。
The twilight had begun to whiten what was on high and to blacken all below。 As he read； over the top of the book which he held in his hand； Father Mabeuf was surveying his plants； and among others a magnificent rhododendron which was one of his consolations； four days of heat； wind； and sun without a drop of rain； had passed； the stalks were bending； the buds drooping； the leaves falling； all this needed water； the rhododendron was particularly sad。 Father Mabeuf was one of those persons for whom plants have souls。 The old man had toiled all day over his indigo plot； he was worn out with fatigue； but he rose； laid his books on the bench； and walked； all bent over and with tottering footsteps； to the well； but when he had grasped the chain； he could not even draw it sufficiently to unhook it。
Then he turned round and cast a glance of anguish toward heaven which was being studded with stars。
The evening had that serenity which overwhelms the troubles of man beneath an indescribably mournful and eternal joy。
The night promised to be as arid as the day had been。
〃Stars everywhere！〃 thought the old man； 〃not the tiniest cloud！ Not a drop of water！〃
And his head； which had been upraised for a moment； fell back upon his breast。
He raised it again； and once more looked at the sky； murmuring：
〃A tear of dew！
A little pity！〃
He tried again to unhook the chain of the well； and could not。
At that moment； he heard a voice saying：
〃Father Mabeuf； would you like to have me water your garden for you？〃
At the same time； a noise as of a wild animal passing became audible in the hedge； and he beheld emerging from the shrubbery a sort of tall； slender girl； who drew herself up in front of him and stared boldly at him。
She ha