d the old arm-chair to the fireside, and placed upon the table a pen, some ink and some paper.
That done, he had a fainting fit.
When he recovered consciousness, he was thirsty.
As he could not lift the jug, he tipped it over painfully towards his mouth, and swallowed a draught.
As neither the pen nor the ink had been used for a long time, the point of the pen had curled up, the ink had dried away, he was forced to rise and put a few drops of water in the ink, which he did not accomplish without pausing and sitting down two or three times, and he was compelled to write with the back of the pen.
He wiped his brow from time to time.
Then he turned towards the bed, and, still seated, for he could not stand, he gazed at the little black gown and all those beloved objects.
These contemplations lasted for hours which seemed minutes.
All at once he shivered, he felt that a child was taking possession of him; he rested his elbows on the table, which was illuminated by the Bishop''s candles and took up the pen.
His hand trembled.
He wrote slowly the few following lines:
"Cosette, I bless thee.
I am going to explain to thee.
Thy husband was right in giving me to understand that I ought to go away; but there is a little error in what he believed, though he was in the right.
He is excellent.
Love him well even after I am dead.