At dusk on the day after his confession, Jean Valjean knocked at the big street door of Monsieur Gillenormand’s house. Basque was out in the courtyard as if under orders to watch for him. Before Valjean could even reach him, he said the baron had asked him to find out whether the gentleman wished to go upstairs or stay downstairs. I will stay downstairs, Valjean answered.
The room Basque opened for him was a low, vaulted, damp room on the ground floor. It was sometimes used to store wine, so it had a red tiled floor and only one window with iron bars to let in the light from the street. Across one pane stretched a black cobweb dotted with dead flies, and empty bottles were piled in a corner. Yet a fire had been lit in the grate, which meant they had known in advance he would say downstairs.
Valjean was worn out after days without food or sleep. He sank into an armchair by the fire and let his head drop onto his chest. Then all at once he sat up. Without seeing her, he had felt Cosette come in.