The Count and the Convict

Holy Men

Revenge, the word gestated with many emotions, but Jean Valjean determined the real motive under Edmond Dantes' desire. The few seeded hints that Dantes had dropped about his past, Valjean had swept up and studied in the soil of his mind.

"Justice," Valjean stated. "To punish the wicked: a just endeavor. One would think." Valjean stared blankly beyond Edmond with his own budding thoughts.

Edmond seized on the concept of justice as it resonated within him. "Yes! The very Will of God!" Edmond raised his voice and leaned forward in tense excitement. His eyes were impassioned and his form impressive. "And having found my treasure, God has given me my commission!" Edmond was malignantly serious, and his hands were clenched in fists.

Valjean was careful in his response and looked on Edmond with concern and trepidation. "Ah, even the Commission of God," he replied in almost a whisper. "A Man of God once purchased me from death with metal and stone like yours. How glad I am that he did not take up your commission.  Instead, he took up the Great One." Valjean thought a moment about what he should divulge. He fingered the rim of his empty cup then said, "That man gave up his wealth to purchase me from wickedness for God. Monseigneur Bienvenue, a name that suited him." Valjean stared down at the empty cup, drowning for a moment in his own thoughts.

Edmond's passion lessened a degree. His hands opened from their fists and he leaned back in his chair. "A holy man saved you. A holy man saved me, as well. But this man." Edmond paused a moment, and like Valjean, he was reluctant to reveal too much, but seeing Valjean's vulnerability he followed him with reluctance. "Abbe Ferras. For wealth, he was condemned to rot in the Chateau D'if . . . with me. He was innocent of his crimes, as is everyone in that fortress. With his wealth, he purchased me, much like Bienvenue purchased you. And not with his wealth only, but with his mind, teaching me; eventually, he purchased me with his life as well. In his death, he set me free and purchased for me my revenge.  My justice."

Valjean nodded but appeared mournful. "A good man. Would such a man of God rush to judgment? Do not be so quick to judge your fellow man, Abbe Busoni. I, myself, know the inside of a prison, Toulon. I have been sentenced to die in prison. My escape was not purchased for me by another, but by my own wit and strength." Valjean held up his worn and calloused hands. "But I escaped my just punishment. One I deserved. One I still deserve and someday the hound of justice will overtake me. Much like those you chase after. If only I had more time..." Valjean trailed off.

"Time for what?" Edmond inquired, surprised at himself that he found interest in that.

Valjean looked portentously beyond him at the door to Madame Canard's kitchen and made no answer. Edmond's brow arched down in speculation, then he turned to look back at the kitchen door. It was not empty. The door framed a small elf-like girl, almost like a china doll. Her ethereal brown locks rested on her shoulders as if a gust of wind could blow them away. Her delicate white skin balanced large dark eyes that stared toward their table. One dainty hand was on the frame of the door as she looked trustingly at Jean Valjean from across the room.

"More time to fulfill my word to a mother. . . to protect a daughter." One tear began to form in the corner of Valjean's eye as he looked at the girl. "For my salvation, and for hers."