Victoria wandered the Paris streets alone. Not a very wise thing for her to do, especially in the wee
hours of the morning, but the fact was, nobody knew, or likely cared that she was gone. The night was
black, with no stars to be seen. Antoine was gone; there was nothing to be done. Victoria had no more
tears left to cry. That had been done at the funeral one year ago.
Their life together had been bliss. They had met seven years ago in England, during one of many
summers spent in London. It was Victoria's homeland. Indeed she had been born there, but she had
lived in France most of her life, and had considered it truly her home.
At first, she'd wanted nothing to do with the rather foppish Frenchman, but Antoine Duvalier's
persistence finally won her over. They fell deeply in love, married, and settled in Paris that very
Autumn. It was three years of Heaven. They hadn't yet been blessed with children, but even though
Victoria was nearly thirty years old, she was still of childbearing age, and there would certainly be
time. Tragically, it was not to be. Antoine, barely thirty-five himself, took suddenly ill, and was dead
before a doctor could be summoned.
Victoria found herself on the bridge over the Seine. She felt herself drawn to the parapet,
overlooking the murky, rushing waters.
"Antoine, I'm coming!"
Somehow, in spite of her full skirts and her delicate frame, she hoisted herself up to balance there
precariously. She felt cold, even though she wore Antoine's oversized greatcoat. Victoria's thick,
raven tresses flowed freely to her shouldersit was the way Antoine loved it most, and since his
funeral, Victoria would have it no other way. Her eyes were as dark as her hair, and they starkly
contrasted with her delicate, porcelain skin. Victoria Duvalier was a beautiful woman, who was now
utterly alone as she stood, contemplating her own demise. She looked down at the wall.
"Curious. Why would somebody leave his hat?"
Victoria suddenly felt a chill. A gust of wind almost knocked her off the wall. She got to her knees
and held fast.
"No!" Victoria heard a voice. "You must not!"
"Antoine?" She cried, knowing that was impossible. "Antoine!"
"This is not the answer." The voice continued, "You are needed."
Silence.
Victoria looked around, still balanced unsteadily. Her eyes were drawn to the hat. She picked it up as
she clambered down. The impulse to go to the riverbank seized her as she placed the hat on her head.
It slid down well below her ears. It was obviously a man's hat, and a rather large one at that, but
somehow, she felt comforted wearing it. Picking up her lantern, she took the quickest route she knew
to her destination.
At the bank of the river all was silent but the river itself. Victoria felt a pang of doubt. "What would
Antoine say?" she wondered for a moment, then sadly remembered that Antoine would never say
another word. Quickly recovering, Victoria was able to see, by the light of her lamp, a couple of small
boats docked there. Upon closer investigation, she noticed something floating, almost under the
smallest of the vessels, or rather someone, apparently drowned.
"Hello!" Victoria called. There was no response, so she drew nearer. She climbed aboard the tiny
rowboat, using an oar to move it a fraction, freeing the man, who quickly and fortunately washed up
on the bank. Disembarking as swiftly as possible, Victoria pulled and tugged at the man, who was
easily twice her size, until she had him completely out of the water, face up. He was fully clothed in
the uniform of a policeman.
"Bloody Hell!" She exclaimed. "He's dead!"
She looked at the man's pale face, and was at once struck by the strength of his features.
"Something of the Gypsy in this one, I'd wager!" Victoria mused as she gently traced the thick
eyebrows with her finger.
She noticed that his eyelashes were just as thick. She observed the thick, yet neatly kept sideburns.
They were as silvery as his long hair, which was tied loosely back. Antoine's hair would have gone a
similar shade of silver had he been allowed to grow old
"Dead!" She repeated, and became suddenly grief-stricken. Why would Antoine lead her (for that
was what she believed) to another dead man? Tears burned in her throat as she cried out to God.
After a moment she looked again on the dead man. She knelt and kissed his forehead. The dead
man's eyes fluttered open. Victoria jumped back, barely covering a scream.
The man sat up, and began to cough violently, to the point of vomiting, although he had nothing to
vomit except for more of the murky water that his lungs were already expelling through his mouth
and nose. After the fearful paroxysms of coughing and retching had subsided, Victoria took out her
handkerchief, and gently wiped the man's face. He offered no resistance as she went about her task.
He lay back, exhausted, his eyes closing of their own accord.
"No!" Victoria cried, rousing him with a violent shake. "There's only me! I can't carry you!"
"Then I shall die here." He said hoarsely, "It is of no consequence"His voice trailed off.
"No!" Victoria cried again, almost hysterically. She grabbed him by the shoulders, tenaciously trying
to force him into a sitting position. "You will NOT die! IALLOW it!!!"
The man stared at Victoria, noticing for the first time how small she was. This tiny woman, wearing a
man's coat and hat, physically willing him to live. If she only knew
Undeterred, Victoria continued to push and shove. He sat up and caught her hand. "Madame." He
said, "Stop at once. You do not know me. Why is my life of any concern to you?" Victoria looked at
him, new tears streaming down her cheeks. "It is you who have saved my life, Monsieur."
He couldn't be sure of what it was that convinced him, perhaps the honest innocence in the deep
brown eyes, or the desperation of her voice; how unusual to feel swayed by such trivialities but for
now, he would do as he was bidden. He rose to his full height, only to be overcome by waves of
dizziness and nausea. He held onto Victoria for support, and she allowed him to sit down for a
moment until the feeling passed.
"I'm sorry, Monsieur." Victoria said, after several minutes, "We must be on our way. I promise it
won't be long."
He rose, slowly this time, and they started walking toward Victoria's home.
Once they'd arrived, it was a simple matter to find dry nightclothes for Victoria's guest to change
into. After all, Antoine had closets full of clothing for all occasions. Strangely, Victoria held no
sentimental attachment to any of her late husband's clothing or indeed to most of his personal effects.
Without him, they were nothing at all. She supposed she would eventually give them all to the needy.
How fortunate that this man was of a similar build, although considerably tallerno matter, in the
morning Victoria would lengthen a pair of trousers to fit. His own clothing would have to be
laundered, perhaps mended. Victoria would see to that.
The man numbly complied with Victoria's ministrations without uttering a word. By this time, a chill
had set in, and he was shivering too much to talk anyway. Victoria decided he'd be better off settled
into her own bed. She would sleep in the smaller guest's quarters. Her aunt wasn't due back till late
the next day, against her better judgment, but Victoria had insisted.
The rigors of the man's ordeal, combined with the dry clothes and the warm bed, were such that he
fell instantly asleep. Victoria wished she had bothered to ask him his name before that, but she
supposed, that could wait until tomorrow. "Tomorrow will come after all." She said, as she gently
kissed him goodnight. "For both of us."
Brilliant light came streaming into the room through the small window that overlooked the garden.
The man lying in the big, white bed stirred. He put his hand up to his face to shield his eyes from the
bright sunlight. How long had he been asleep? Come to that, how had he arrived here in the first
place? Why couldn't he remember? A rather large and ornately framed painting caught his eye. It
hung on the wall opposite the bed. The subject was a beautiful raven-haired lady in a simple blue
gown. Why did he seem to recognize her? He did not recognize anything else about the room, which
served to confirm his nagging suspicion that nothing would ever be the same as it was before.
Still fatigued, in fact, he did not recall ever having been so tired, he closed his eyes and tried to
reconstruct the events of the last night. Was it last night? Perhaps he could not even be sure of that.
He shuddered at the thought. The last night he could remember was a horrible night to be sure. The
convict, Jean Valjean, was in his grasphe had let him go. Set him free! A travesty! Law and
Order be damned, he had let Jean Valjean go! And for what? A convict's simple act of
mercyentirely undeserved. "By all rights, Jean Valjean should have killed me on the spotbut
instead he spared my life.
An embarrassment of the highest order, and instead of putting things to right, by carrying out my
dutyI set him FREE!"
Javert, for that was the man's name, had always despised such weakness. Weakness. Was that truly
what it was?
His head now throbbed as the memory flooded back. Javert had taken his only option. There had
been no way to escape disgrace, no place left for him in the Earthly realmbut now it seemed that
God had denied him even thishis deserved penance.
It was then that the thought occurred to him. It was a concept that the rules of Law and Order had
long kept at bay. Perhaps the convict Jean Valjean had been right all along.
God had denied Javert the oblivion of Deathperhaps He had already granted him forgiveness.
Javert thought of the lady in the portrait. "And it seems, He has also granted me an angel."
An unaccustomed peacefulness settled upon Javert, as he sunk into a profound, and for the first time
in his memory, untroubled slumber.
Victoria had awakened quite late that morning. It was no wonder, considering the goings on the night
before. She dressed quickly, to make sure that her guest would not be left alone for long. She needn't
have worried. When she looked in on him a few minutes later, he was still sleeping soundly, with no
signs of stirring.
It was just as well. She sighed. Nothing much mattered now anyway. Victoria wondered what it was
that brought that man to such a statesuch desolation, hopelessness, that he would choose to end his
life. It was a state so much like her own. It frightened her, but she remembered the words that rang in
her head"You are needed!" She thanked God then and there, that the man had jumped before she
did.
Victoria finished preparing suitable garments for her guest. She was about to bring them to him while
she checked on him again. Truth be told, she was becoming a little concerned, since it was already
well past noon
"Victoria!" Victoria heard a voice. It was her aunt, returning early.
"Aunt Elisabeth?" she replied, mildly annoyed at the interruption.
"Oh Vicky, I was so concerned. Are you all right! I would never have forgiven myself"
"I wasn't expecting you till later this evening."
Victoria tried to hide her feelings. After all, the old lady was just looking out for her as she always
did. Deep down, Victoria was grateful that Elisabeth had come to Paris and moved in with her and
Antoine shortly after they were married. But now, well, the situation would be difficult to explain
without causing much concern.
Elisabeth's concern was well founded, more than she knew. "Really, Aunt Elisabeth, I just needed to
be alone for awhile." Victoria attempted to reassure the woman.
"But for all night? No, dear, that was just not proper"
"But I asked you to leave! Besides, I was not alone for long."
Victoria could have slapped herself. She hadn't intended to broach the subject this way. It would have
been easier if Elisabeth had been there after allbut if Elisabeth had been therewell, it was God's
own Providence
The look on Elisabeth's face spoke volumes. Concern with just a hint of disapproval.
"Not alone? But who?"
Victoria sighed. She was found out.
"I was outwalking last night by the river, when I came upon"
"The river?!?! What were you doing by the river?!"
"Never mind what I was doing"
"Victoria...I know you've only been a widow for a short time, but there are certain conventions"
"Yes, yesI know A widow must remain in full mourning dress for an entire year, after which she
is allowed to add only one colour, but only the approved colours, and she must be properly somber at
all times, never far from tears over her dear departed"
"I'm being serious, my dear! You had no business being alone last nightit won't happen again!"
"I told you I was not alone all night."
Elisabeth got an odd look on her face, and without a word, started for Victoria's room.
Victoria made no move to stop her, but said a silent prayer.
Elisabeth returned to Victoria, slightly pale. "You spent the night with him?"
"I slept in your room." Victoria said patiently. "Besides, he was in no condition totake
advantage"
"Doubtful he would have, even if he could You still haven't told me"
"Now what do you mean by that? Elisabeth, do you know this man?"
Elisabeth looked at Victoria incredulously. "You truly don't know who he is?"
"He was in need, and I helped himalthough I had to convince him to allow itbeyond that, he did
not tell me his name." Victoria said.
"In that case, I'll let him be the one to tell you. But please tell me how he came to be here."
"Please don't be shocked." Victoria said, as she started to tell Elisabeth all that happened during the
night.
Javert awoke suddenly. He was certain that he'd heard someone enter the room, but he'd failed to
rouse himself in time to see who it was. No matterhe was perfectly alert now, and he began to focus
on the unfamiliar surroundings. He occupied a large bed, with a white headboard. All the bedding,
including the quilt, was white. For that matter, so was the borrowed nightshirt that he wore. He barely
remembered putting it on. It was of a fine fabric, much more expensive than anything he'd ever
allowed himself. And just where was his uniform? Perhaps he'd no longer be needing it, he thought, a
bit ruefully.
There was a small window, simply adorned with a white curtain. All of the furnishings were white as
well. The distinct contrast between this room and the environs that Javert was accustomed to was
almost overwhelming. His eyes were drawn to the painting. The woman in the portrait was beautiful.
All the color in the room was hers. She was a delicate flower He reflected yet again, on everything
he'd been denied, either, by his circumstance, or by his own discipline. It was a relentless pursuitto
survive the unfortunate lot he'd been born to. To somehow break the bonds of his heritagehe
pursued the Law, embraced it And now he was not dead. Could he return to his old, carefully
ordered existence? More relentless pursuit to finish what he'd started. Jean Valjean would be his for
the taking. Valjean. More than twenty yearswasted. No, Javert had changed. As impossible as that
had been, God had accomplished this, no one else. Javert would follow the convict's example of
transformation, God help him. He closed his eyes in prayer. When he opened them again, he was
startled to see Victoria's deep brown eyes staring back at him.
"Oh dear, Monsieur, I'm sorry I woke you, but I must say I'm glad you're awake. I was beginning to
worry." Victoria smiled sweetly. Javert blinked. It was the portrait come to life. The angelfrom
where did he know her? Of course! The river! His steel blue eyes grew wide, and his mouth hung
slightly open as he speechlessly took her in. Nothing could have prepared him for his reaction. So
much had changed so quickly, and he was very nearly overwhelmed by it all.
"Monsieur, are you all right?" Victoria automatically placed her hand upon his brow to check for
fever. There was none, Thank God.
"Forgive me, Madame." Javert said, a bit shakily, responding to her touch. "I thought perhaps you
were a dream"
Victoria blushed a little, but she took his hand reassuringly and said, "I am quite real, Monsieur."
She paused for a moment before she continued. "I've brought you something to wear. I hope it's
suitable. I've sent your clothes to be laundered."
"Thank you, Madame," Javert replied, his voice a little stronger now, "I am in your debt."
Victoria smiled yet again. "I'm Madame Duvalier." Her eyes clouded briefly, then she continued
meaningfully. "I've been widowed sinceone year ago yesterday." Brightening, she said, "And how
may I address you, Monsieur? My Aunt Elisabeth says I should already know you, but I do not."
"My name is Javert. That is how you may address me."
"Very well, Monsieur Javert." The name was vaguely familiar, as though she'd read it somewhere.
"Yes!" She said suddenly. "II do remember youMonsieur L'Inspecteur!"
"How is that possible?" Javert was puzzled. He was certain that he'd never seen this woman before
last night.
Victoria blushed deeply. "Well, we haven't actually met before. I know you by your reputation."
She realized she still held his hand. Javert, for his part, had not pulled away. He sensed that Victoria
did not wish to elaborate, and somewhat uncharacteristically, he did not press.
Victoria gently pulled her hand away from his. "If you're feeling strong enough, after you've dressed,
we can eat together in the dining room, or I can bring you something in here while you rest some
more."
"Thank you, Madame. I believe I shall join you in a moment."
After lunch, Victoria and Javert took a walk in the garden. Victoria rather proudly noticed that the
dark blue trousers she'd altered for him were a near perfect fit, as was the dark blue vest and
matching cravat.
The clean white shirt was another matter. Although a good fit otherwise, Victoria had forgotten that
the sleeves would also need some lengthening.
Javert didn't seem to mind. He'd carefully rolled up the sleeves, apparently without a second thought.
It was a much less formal, and decidedly more fashionable look than he was accustomed to. He
questioned the appropriateness of the situation, but said nothing. Javert was, in fact, grateful, and
said as much.
Victoria smiled. She could tell that expressions of gratitude were not an easy thing for such a man,
and her Aunt Elisabeth's unpleasant attitude throughout the meal certainly couldn't have made it any
easier.
"Monsieur, I must apologize for my aunt's behaviour. I'm certain she didn't mean anything by it."
Javert looked at her. "And I'm certain that she did." He replied resolutely. At Victoria's horrified
look, he continued. "No matter, I was not offended in the least."
Victoria relaxed a little. "Did you really arrest her? For trespassing?"
Javert reflected for a moment. He vaguely remembered an incident a few years back, in which he'd
detained an old lady who'd been loitering about the Gillenormand residence. The occupants of the
house were gone. The old man had taken his staff with him wherever he'd gone for one reason or
another. So, Elisabeth had been trying to get in. She'd been reported, which is how it happened.
Finally, Mlle. Gillenormand came to the police post along with M. Duvalier and straightened
everything out. She and Elisabeth had gotten their arrangements mixed up, and Mlle. was waiting at
the Duvalier house. When Elisabeth failed to arrive, Antoine made some inquiries and found out
where Elisabeth was. And so, since she hadn't been trespassing after all, she'd been released, with a
warning. Not a kind warning at that, he recalled.
"No charges were filed." He said at length. "I'd prefer not to discuss it."
"Very well." Victoria sighed, and they were silent.
They sat on one of the two benches in the garden, and Victoria pointed out the different kinds of
flowers and foliage that grew there. "I brought those clippings all the way from Englandthey have
thrived here, as have I."
Javert seemed not to be listening. Victoria couldn't read him. She tried again.
"I shall have to make the sleeves longer for you, Monsieur."
Javert started slightly. "Surely not." He replied. "You have already done far more than I can
repay."
"There's no need to repay anything at all, Monsieur." Victoria said. "Indeed, it is I who should repay
you."
"I don't understand." Javert answered, coughing a little. His chest and ribs were still painful from his
near drowning, but he refused to acknowledge that.
"Have you not wondered why I was there?" Victoria looked into his eyes.
A little ashamed, Javert admitted that he hadn't. "It's all right, you had more pressing matters to
think about. I'll tell you, if you tell me how you came to be there."
Javert was at a complete loss for words. How could he tell her? He could barely admit it to himself.
Although at the time, it seemed the right, indeed the only thing to do. "A mistake." He finally
managed to say. "I know now, that I was wrong, that I should be punishedI am
redeemed."
Victoria could see the effort it took for Javert to even allow her a glimpse of his situation, and she
took his hand. "Yes, Monsieur, you are redeemed, and I with you, for I very nearly made the same
mistake as you."
Victoria sat out in the garden, alone now, since Javert had gonehome, she supposed. A week had
passed since they'd sat here together. "How could this be, Antoine?" She whispered to her late
husband's memory. "What was the purpose?" She waited for an answer, which of course, did not
come. She sighed.
"Victoria!" Reverie broken, Victoria turned to her aunt. "What is it, Aunt Elisabeth?"
"I've just booked passage. We leave for England in three days."
"What?" Victoria was shocked. "Aunt Elisabeth, I have no intention of leaving, I"
"Victoria. Don't you see what's happening? It's becoming far too dangerous herewhy my dear
friend Mlle. Gillenormand's nephew Marius Pontmercy was nearly killed last week in that nasty
barricade business."
Marius. Antoine had occasionally mentioned his distant cousin along with several other students he'd
come to know through his own scholarly pursuits Victoria wondered if any of the others had
survived, for they'd surely all have been involved. So would Antoine, truth be told, had he lived. What
were their names? Victoria recalled only a few, having only met Marius a few times briefly.
Combeferre, Joly, GrantaireEnjolras?
Sadly, her question was answered. "He was the only one to survive, and that only barely. I tell you,
we must leave this god-forsaken country." Elisabeth continued. "I can't go, Elisabeth. My life is here
now. Why don't you go alone? I'll be all right." Victoria tried to remain calm. "Victoria, only last
week, you tried to take your own life. Surely you didn't think I'd forgotten." Victoria regretted telling
Elisabeth how she came to be at the Seine at precisely the right time to rescue the inspector. "I didn't
go through with it, as you can see. And, I saved a life in the process." She did not add that she
believed that in saving Javert's life, Javert had saved hers. Nor did she add that she also believed
that somehow, Antoine had set up the circumstances"I made a mistake. I won't make the same
mistake again, nor will I make the mistake of going back to England, when it's clear I belong right
here." Elisabeth started to protest, but there was something in Victoria's eyes that clearly showed
the futility of such an attempt. "Well, you have three days to change your mind. After that, you can
have Paris all to yourself." Elisabeth left the garden. Victoria followed her with her eyes. "Goodbye,
Auntie." She said, and returned to her musings.
Javert finally returned to his flat. He was tired, preoccupied, perhaps a little feverish. He decided to
ignore that, as he neatly hung up his overcoat in the small wardrobe. His eyes fell upon the stylish
garments Victoria had given him. Although he'd insisted that it wasn't necessary, Victoria had altered
the shirtsleeves to fit, and sent it along with him. Victoria was very skillful when it came to keeping
clothing at its best. His uniform had never looked better, even after the dunking it had gone through.
It was a good thing, too. It very likely played a part in the unusually light penalty he paid to return to
his job. That was a miracle in itself.
Only days ago Javert would have never tolerated a member of the police force to disappear as he
did, not returning to duty until after he had been reported dead by some observant passer by, who
had happened along as Javert was falling. Perhaps a body would never be found, but Javert was
certain there would be an extended search made. No search was initiated, they told him the unrest all
over the city placed such matters on relatively low priority.
It was also miraculous, that Javert had asked to return to duty instead of asking for his own
immediate dismissal, on those very grounds. However, Javert's past record spoke for itself, and
instead of dismissal or prosecution, he would have to return to duty, on probation, and for a week of
double shiftsa ridiculously small price to pay, he observed. What had happened to the force in the
short time he was missing? Had the world changed so much while he was away?
Javert was certainly a changed man. He had accepted his penalty without complaint. But it was
different now. Compassion had entered the picture. Was there room in the police force for
suchfeelings? What would Jean Valjean think of him now? Javert no longer had any desire to bring
Valjean to justice. As far as he was concerned, justice had already been served a thousand times
over. Javert did not know how to live with it, but here he was, still living. He had been given a second
chance. It was something he'd never believed in before, but perhaps, like so many other things in his
life, he'd been wrong about that too.
And now there was Victoria. Never, not even in his youth, had Javert been so captivated by a woman.
He could still see her, in soft focus; the beautiful dark eyesthe raven hair. He could still feel her
soft touch. Javert decided that he must see her again. He coughed painfully as he lay down on the
bed, and as he floated into sleep; the dim vision of Victoria achieved perfect clarity in comforting
dreams.
Victoria had been crying. She hadn't wanted to admit it, and she hadn't, she thought proudly. But she
was going to miss her aunt terribly. Victoria had held out. She'd resolved not to leave the country,
and by God, she remained in Paris. Elisabeth did everything she could to convince her niece to
accompany her, but when it came right down to it, Victoria knew she was meant to stay. Elisabeth
hadn't wanted to leave Victoria, but she was old now, and if she'd wanted to finish out her life on
English soil, she would have to go now, while she could still get around.
So, for the first time since her arrival, Victoria was absolutely alone. Oh sure, there was always the
household staff, but Victoria didn't really know them, as was proper, she supposed. Of course, the
Gillenormands would look after her. Not only were they Elisabeth's friends, but they were distantly
related to the Duvaliers. Really, they were the closest thing to family Victoria had in this country.
And although distant, they were Antoine's only living relatives. But right now, they were all too
occupied with Marius' recoveryif he would recover, that is. If not, they would soon be occupied with
his funeral. At any rate, it would be months before Victoria could call upon them expecting any sort of
support
Victoria sighed. She seemed to do that an awful lot lately. She looked around the house. It was really
a beautiful home. Spacious, yet not terribly ostentatious, it possessed a certain simplicity. That was
mostly Victoria's influence. Anything ornate was more to her late husband's taste. She had been
thinking about Antoine a lot lately. Aside from the depression brought on by the anniversary, Victoria
had been doing well. She was ready to move on now. She went to her bedroom, and reached inside the
wardrobe. She took off her black mourning dress, and was going to put on the blue dress from her
portrait, but thought better of that, and instead put on a simple, dark green dress that was trimmed
with ecru lace. She still kept her hair down, but she found a pair of side combs that she used to keep
her hair out of her face.
She felt suddenly much better now, but she still thought of the man she'd rescued over a week ago.
Impulsively, she took the hat she'd found on the parapet out of the place she'd made for it on the
mantelpiece, and put it on. Victoria laughed out loud as she looked in the mirror. She did look a sight!
Just then, there was a knock at the door. Victoria rushed downstairs to answer it before the maid got
it.
Javert waited nervously at Mme. Duvalier's door. He hoped he'd gone about this the right way. He
supposed he could have sent a message to let her know he was coming. Surely, showing up
unannounced in a social capacity was highly irregular, not like official business, which sometimes
called for the element of surprise. Javert couldn't rememberit had been so long, and his thoughts
had been so muddled as of late. So longno, never. He had never pursued a woman romantically.
He'd had neither the time, nor the inclination. All this was so new Romance? Noit was too soon.
Hadn't she told him she was a recent widow? But in spite of all the uncertainty, Javert longed to see
her. It couldn't be proper, but propriety be damned, he was at her door, and he would see herif only
to allow her to dismiss him.
"Hello!" Victoria smiled broadly as she, not the maid, opened the door. "Good afternoon, Madame."
Javert replied, as he awkwardly attempted to return the smile. The man's obvious discomfort only
caused Victoria to giggle uncontrollably. She was indeed pleased to see him, but also quite surprised.
Realizing that he might find her laughter offensive, she blushed slightly as she said, "Do come in,
Monsieur. I was just thinking about you!"
Taken aback by the lady's enthusiasm, Javert mumbled, "Merci", and followed her inside. She led
him to the parlor where they sat down. The maid had already set out tea for Victoria and her guest,
just as though he'd been expected. Victoria marveled at that fact, and said to the maid, "Merci,
Manon." Manon bowed slightly and retreated silently. It was then that Victoria noticed her guest
staring at her. "Oh! My hat!" She laughed out loud, realizing it was still on her head. "I must be a
sight, Monsieur!" Javert replied, "Not at allit's just that, well, your hat looksquite familiar."
Sudden realization. Of course, he was the one who'd left it on the bridge before "Oh, Monsieur, do
forgive me! If I'd known" Javert interrupted. "Quite all right, Madame. I'd discarded it, it's
yours." Victoria started to protest, but she saw the expression on Javert's face and thought better of
it. He looked so vulnerable. It must be terribly difficult for him. "So Monsieur, " Victoria said, by
way of changing the subject. "What brings you here today? Surely you haven't just come to see
mealthough I'd be very pleased if you had!" She smiled more sweetly than ever. Javert paled. He
actually felt quite lightheaded. "Damn!" He thought to himself. Never had he been rendered so
speechless. Not since he first decided to set Jean Valjean free
"Are you all right Monsieur?" Victoria spoke again. Javert opened his mouth to speak, but no words
came out. Instead, he nearly doubled over in a fit of coughing that rivaled the spasms of his near
drowning. Victoria gave him her handkerchief and touched his cheek. "My word, you're burning hot!
Manon! Send for the doctor!" Javert protested feebly as the maid sprang into action, leaving the
house as quickly as possible. "Dear God, man, why did you come all this way, as ill as you are?"
Victoria fussed, as she led him into the guestroom, where she insisted that he lie down immediately.
She placed a cold cloth on his forehead, as he managed to say, "I had to see you again."
before the room faded completely to black.
Victoria was quite upset. So, he'd wanted to see her again. Why hadn't he just said so days ago? Now
he may never get the chance. Victoria was worried and angry all at once. "Pneumonia", the doctor
had said.
Most likely caused by the water that had invaded his lungs the week before. Sometimes it takes that
long to develop. A robust man of general good health like Javert would be more likely to fight it off
than most, but because he'd unknowingly allowed his resistance to weaken, the pneumonia had
manifested itself with a vengeance. "The next few days will be critical." The doctor said. "There's
nothing more to be done. Send for me if there's a change for the better, send for the undertaker if
not" Victoria vowed never to send for him again in any case, as she began her vigil.
Javert's fever continued to rise. His breathing was laboured, and he thrashed about uncomfortably,
babbling and muttering, mostly incoherently. He moaned weakly when Victoria gently dabbed his
face with a cold, damp towel. She gently lifted his head and tried to get him to drink some water.
Javert opened his eyes, staring wildly as he cried out. Then, he fell back, unconscious again. Tears
came to Victoria's eyes. "Whatever must have happened in his past still haunts him." He moaned
again, and Victoria squeezed his hand. "You WILL recoverand I'll do all I can to put things right, I
swear it!"
Javert was cold. Chilled to the bone. Not knowing where he was, he looked about---and saw squalor.
Filthy, wretched, rat-infested squalor. "Home." He thought. The only home he'd known until he was
nine years old. "It is hardly possible." He mused, but a glance at his own body told him he was
roughly that age now. He lay on what he supposed, no, remembered, was intended as a bed. A dirty
old blanket beneath him, with another rolled under his head as a pillow. He tried to rise, but was
stopped by a terrible pain in his chest. He coughed. At the sound, a shabbily attired, dark haired
woman with curiously steel blue eyes entered the room. Coughing herself, she removed her shawl and
covered Javert with it. He shivered. Noticing this, the woman lay close and held him, offering him
what little warmth she had.
Javert watched, as the boy became drowsy in his mother's arms. Somehow, he'd become detached
from the scene and was now a mere observer---unseen by the shadows of his memory. When the child
was asleep, the woman kissed him gently and left him there. It was the last time Javert had ever seen
this woman. She never came back. He never forgot, never forgave. Even when he later learned that
she'd been beaten to death by an unhappy customer (a misread fortune, or had she not satisfied
him?)a recently escaped convict as it happenedwhile on her way home, he'd never cried.
Numbness had settled over his being
from the moment he woke up alone the next morning. As he grew up, he turned to the law for his
salvation. It was the only way to spare himself from his parents' fate. His father, not that it mattered
much, had died soon after in prison, and Javert was raised by whomever would have him. It was a
tragic fate for one so young. Strange---Javert had never felt that way before. So many feelings he'd
never felt beforebut now it was over. He would be gone soon. Death had waited long enough.
Javert felt drawn toward a faint light that would soon envelop his very soul.
Three days had passed. Still there was no change. Victoria was worried. Javert was weaker, she
could tell. "I've only just found you. I can't lose you." She whispered, as she watched for any signs
that he might be improving.
Javert continued to move toward the ever-increasing light. As he moved closer, he felt more peaceful
than he'd ever felt in his entire life. Still, there was something missing. He did not understand. If this
was Heaven, then it surely must be perfection Then he saw her, and his own eyes stared back at
him. The dark haired Gypsy woman from his childhood. "Mother?" He ventured. "My sonoh how
I've longed to see you!" She embraced him, and he awkwardly returned it. "How I wish our lives
could have been different. I've always regretted leaving you the way I did." "Why?" He managed.
"Why did you go?"
"All you need to know, you will knowbut now is not your time." Javert was confused. "Not my
time? I would have thought it was past it, rather" "No." His mother said. "I would not see you
burn in Hell."
Javert shuddered. Of course. He knew all too well that those who commit the ultimate murder,
suicide, are damned. "And I would not allow my wife to burn there with you." A well-dressed young
man appeared. Javert did not recognize him at first, then suddenly knew. "Antoine Duvalier?"
"Very good, Monsieur. I see you're a credit to your profession. Now, you must go back. My Victoria
needs someone who will care for her."
"Mother?"
"He is right, René. You must go. It is not yet your time."
Javert had not heard his given name in decades. He almost believed he'd forgotten it. He still did not
understand.
"But"
"Don't you see what's right before you, man?" Antoine spoke relentlessly. "Don't let her slip away!"
"The Lord has allowed you one more chance, René. To refuse it is the ultimate sin." Javert's mother
paused. " Still, I had hopedthat you would have seen fit to forgive me"
Suddenly, the light grew brighter, stronger, until Javert's eyes stung. Antoine Duvalier and Javert's
mother took on an ethereal glow. "I will see you again one daybut for now, Victoria awaits."
Javert's mother said, her voice fading. "Do right by her, Javert!" Duvalier snapped, and they were
gone.
"Mother?" Javert's tears finally flowed. "II forgive you!"
Victoria awoke suddenly. She had been reclining in a chair at the far end of the room. She hadn't
intended to sleep, but she was so tired. She'd had the strangest dream. Antoine was there, with a
dark haired Gypsy woman. Victoria was certain she'd seen her before. Something about her eyes.
But what she found even stranger was that she couldn't shake the notion that Antoine had somehow
set her free. The room was quiet. Too quiet. She glanced over at the bed. Javert lay there, quite still.
Victoria gasped. "No!" as she rushed to his side, in a panic. She grabbed his hand, and lay her other
hand on his brow. It was cool. The fever had broken. "Javert!" She cried, not trusting what she felt.
"Please wake up!" Victoria was almost in tears. Seconds passed, then Victoria felt him clasp her
hand. Javert slowly opened his eyes.
"Victoria?" He whispered, too weak to speak any louder. "May I call you"
"Of course you may!" Victoria laughed, with tears streaming down her cheeks.
She kissed his face lightly as she arranged the pillows and the blankets more comfortably around
him.
"Rest now, and we'll talk in the morning." She looked at the sun just starting to rise outside the
window. "Or later today." She added. The faintest smile graced his lips as he fell asleep.
Javert's recovery was slow, but steady. His illness had weakened him considerably, and it was
several weeks before he was strong enough to resume his normal activity. Victoria remained by his
side throughout, steadfastly nursing him through this frustrating ordeal. How Javert hated to be such
a burden on this angel. He had no other words to describe her. What other being would willingly
attend to the needs of one so unworthy. Had he even ventured to thank her? "Perhaps if you're
feeling strong enough, we can sit in the garden for a time!" Victoria said, when he awoke one
morning, his color having finally returned somewhat. "Yes. I'd like that." He told her. He was indeed
feeling stronger, and could finally breathe without pain.
The day was beautiful, sunny without being too hot. They sat together, silently for a time, each deep
in thought Finally, they spoke at once. Victoria giggled. "Forgive me, Monsieur,
please continue. I've forgotten what I was saying at any rate!"
Javert blushed a little, although he never would have admitted it He continued. "Victoria, it seems
you've saved my life yet again, and here I've done nothing to repay you. It's not right, I"
"But it IS! It's perfectly right!" Victoria interrupted. "The fact is, that it was meant to be. I've only
acted as the Lord's instrument here on Earth!"
"My angel." He said, matter-of-factly. He truly believed that.
"Well, " Victoria blushed. "I wouldn't go as far as that"
They fell silent again, distractedly admiring the lovely scenery Victoria's garden provided. Inner
turmoil was somehow intensified by the utter serenity, and Javert began again.
"I shall be going home soon, Victoria, but I want to tell youto ASK you, what I'd intended to before
I fell ill."
Javert paused, in obvious distress, fully expecting to be rejected. After all, what kindness had he
ever offeredto anybody? Only blind respect for authority and the fulfillment of his dutiesthere
had been nothing else in life, and so he had missed all opportunities for friendship and love that may
have been offeredif indeed they had been offered. He wouldn't have recognized them even if they
had
He shuddered visibly. "Please go on, Javert." Victoria gently prodded. "I'm listening, and I really
want to know." Victoria impulsively took his hands. They were cold, so she held them even tighter.
Javert tentatively returned the clasp, and continued. "So much has changed in my life. I hardly
knowhow to go on. I believe that is why I chose not to. I am not the man I was, nor shall I be
againbut I just don't know" A single tear started down his cheek. He ignored it, but it caused
Victoria to tremble. He spoke again.
"I would not dare to presumeI should like to call on you, Victoria, if I maythat is, if you'll have
me."
Victoria burst into tears. It was exactly what she was hoping for. "If I'll have you?! How absurd of
you to imagine that I would not!"
"May I, then?" He asked, still unsure of her reaction.
"I shall look forward to it!" She exclaimed, as she sweetly and firmly planted a kiss on his cheek.
Overcome with emotion, Javert pulled Victoria close and returned the kiss full on her lips. "Well!"
Victoria breathed. "I see I shall have much to look forward to!"
Victoria and Javert saw each other regularly from then on. Javert returned to his flat and to his post,
although his new-found sense of mercy and compassion made some aspects of his duty harder to
take. His discipline, however, remained largely intact, and he was thus able to maintain his
exemplary record. If ever he was tempted to return to his old, inflexible ways, a visit with Victoria
always returned his resolve to start anew.
Javert still only rarely indulged himself with a pinch of snuff. That had formerly been his only
pleasure, when he was particularly pleased with himself, but it was now all but forgotten in favor of
new pleasures. He was now spending most of his off-duty hours in Victoria's company. Their
conversations, once awkward, now flowed much more easily. Although they came from vastly
different backgrounds, each was able to at least attempt to understand, and more importantly, accept
and appreciate the differences. For Javert in particular, this was yet another miracle. One who had
never believed such radical change possible, had undergone a transformation. He finally knew. And if
the Lord could absolve the prisoner, 24601---Jean Valjean, so completely, how much more could be
accomplished in such a man as Javert? So much more had been necessary. He was aware of that as
well.
"What's wrong, my darling?" Victoria broke into Javert's reverie, noting his unusually pensive
expression.
"Nothing at all." He replied sincerely. Victoria smiled. It seemed like a good time to bring it up.
"Javert?" Victoria knew his given name, René, which he had told her months ago, sometime during
his first visit, after he'd returned home, but she respected his preference, and never used it. "Do you
remember, I told you about my husband's distant cousin? The one who almost died at the barricade?"
"Marius Pontmercy. I would have thought him dead. I remember."
"Yes, but you were the one who brought him home." Victoria said, recalling Javert's rather sketchy
retelling of the story. " We are all very grateful for that."
"I did nothing." Javert said, almost bitterly. "It was all Jean Valjean's doing. He was the one who
took Marius away from the barricade. I was onlyit was my duty."
"I'm sorry." Victoria said. "There is no need to explain. It is not my concernI'm just glad you're
here with me now."
"I will tell you, Victoria."
"As you wish, Javert, but please allow me to finish what I was about to say!"
Javert nodded to her, grateful not to have to relive that night just yet.
Victoria continued. "I received an invitation to a wedding. Would you do me the honor of
accompanying me? Marius is marrying Mlle. Fauchelevent. She is a very sweet, lovely girl. I met her
once at Mlle. Gillenormand's house. It should be a lovely affair!"
Javert paled. He now wished he'd told Victoria more than he had. Still, he wanted to please her. "I'll
accompany you, Victoria, on one condition."
Victoria looked surprised. "And what might that be?"
Javert replied. "No one must know who I am."
"I don't understand." She said, puzzled.
"Do you know who this Mlle. Fauchelevent is, Victoria?"
"She's a sweet, lovely girland her father, M. Fauchelevent is a good man"
"Her father is Jean Valjean."
Victoria's eyes were wide. She hadn't realized, hadn't connected a thing. Of course, he'd only told her
bits and pieces of the whole matter of the convict who had altered Javert'sand now Victoria'slife
forever. Victoria felt she had the right to know.
"Javert, I think it may be a good idea for you to tell me everything now. Please?"
And so, Javert began telling Victoria all about 24601
Victoria and Javert did attend the wedding after all. As a member of the extended family, Victoria
felt she should be there, but now that she had a full understanding of what being there might cost
Javert, her enthusiasm was somewhat lessened. Nevertheless, they witnessed the ceremony
together, and while Javert exited, purposefully unnoticed, Victoria paid her respects to the couple.
After personally extending all her best wishes to the couple, Victoria was absently watching Marius
and Cosette greeting some of the other guests. They were absolutely and deliriously in love. Victoria
enjoyed watching them. She was in love like that once, and nowperhaps again
"They're very, very happy, aren't they my dear?" Mlle. Gillenormand said pleasantly.
"Oh my, yes!" Victoria replied. "Thank you so much for inviting me, by the way. It's nice to be
remembered."
"Your Aunt Elisabeth has always thought very highly of you. Have you been writing to her much?"
"Well, I have when I can" Victoria looked down. Actually, she had been putting it off. She was
certain that Elisabeth would not approve of the company Victoria was keeping.
"She is very concerned for you, dear, as I am. She so wanted you to come home with her."
"I know." Victoria replied. "But my life is here, and now"
Mlle. Gillenormand's face lit up. "You're in love, then? I could tell by the way you were looking at
himby the way you were looking at each other. Don't think I haven't seen it before!" She smiled,
glancing again at Marius and Cosette.
Victoria smiled sweetly. "Is it that obvious?" She admitted.
"Abundantly so, dear." Mlle. Gillenormand said. "But where is your escort? I didn't see him leave."
"He was not feeling well, but he insisted that I stay at least long enough to pay my respects, and to
apologize on his behalf." Victoria hoped she wouldn't be asked to elaborate. She was a bad enough
liar as it was. It was far better for her to remain silent.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I was hoping to meet him. Under more pleasant circumstances this time!"
Mlle. Gillenormand looked at Victoria knowingly. Victoria immediately understood. Of course she
would recognize him! She only hoped the woman could be trusted.
"You won't say anything?" Victoria pleaded.
"I wouldn't think of it, dear. No one will know until you tell them. Believe it or not, I was young
once!"
"Thank you so much!" Victoria was relieved. "I must go now, you understand!"
"Don't forget to write your Aunt Elisabeth. I will ask her about you the next time I write!"
Mlle Gillenormand called as Victoria headed out the door.
"I'll write to her this very night!" Victoria said, meaning it this time, as she left.
As soon as Victoria had walked far enough away from the house to escape possible notice, she saw
that Javert had fallen into step beside her, seemingly from out of nowhere. She gasped. "How did you
do that? I didn't even see you!"
"You forget I am still Inspector First Class. And still quite proficient at it, I daresay."
Victoria laughed aloud, and surprisingly, at least to himself, Javert laughed as well.
Several months passed, and the Pontmercys were saddened by the death of Cosette's father. Days
after, Victoria and Javert paid their respects at the cemetery. Javert regretted that he'd never
sought the former convict out---not to bring him to justice--Nojustice had long since been
served---but Javert might have voiced his gratitude for the gift of redemption Valjean had offered
him.
Victoria hung back for a moment before approaching the humble gravesite. "Would you prefer to go
alone?" She asked earnestly. "I would certainly understand." Javert paused, studying her face.
"She IS an angel." He determined, and said, "No, I'd rather prefer you were with me."
They stood quietly by the grave for several minutes. Victoria knew that Javert's thoughts and
feelings at the moment were his own, and she would never interfere.
"So many regrets." Javert whispered, mostly to himself. Victoria simply clasped his hand, and they
left without another word.
As they left the cemetery, Javert vowed to himself that there would be no more such regrets. His life
had irrevocably changed, and the change was, Javert was sure, for the better. He had never
experienced such lightness of spirit. More than anything else, Victoria was responsible for that. Her
youth and hopefulness, in spite of her own heartbreak, had an amazing, uplifting effect. It was beyond
reason that she should choose to remain in his company. Javert hoped that would never change.
Victoria looked out the window---again. A week had passed since she and Javert had visited Jean
Valjean's grave, and they had settled back into their familiar routine. Today, Javert would come to
call on Victoria, and they would take tea in the garden. He was considerably late, and Victoria was
concerned, although she needn't be. Her maid, Manon also waited anxiously. Victoria knew that the
younger woman was also expecting her beau.
"Manon, you can go now. I won't be needing you this evening."
"But, your guest?" Manon replied tentatively. As much as she wanted to leave, Manon did not want
to desert Victoria, considering how kind a mistress she had always been.
"We shall manage, dear---unless you do not wish to go?"
Manon smiled broadly. "Merci, Madame!" She left immediately. Victoria sighed. "Where could he
be? He always sends a messenger when he's delayed!" After another quarter hour passed with no
Javert nor any message, Victoria set off alone to meet him, in spite of Javert's repeated warnings
against doing such a thing.
Javert was annoyed. He'd intended to stop just long enough at the jeweler's shop to buy a gift for
Victoria. He wasn't accustomed to buying gifts for anybody, and hadn't anticipated the myriad
selections, or the proprietor's propensity for idle chatter. He'd remained patient for as long as he
could, then finally threatened to arrest the man for violations that would certainly surface were there
to be a proper investigation. Fortunately, the proprietor was smart enough to complete the
transaction quickly---and at a discount for good measure. Javert stuck the small parcel in his coat
pocket. He observed the time, and realized he should have sent a message to Victoria, but it was too
late to do so now, and he could only hope she would not be too angry with him. As he left the shop,
Javert heard a commotion in the street.
Victoria had hired a fiacre that took her into the part of town not far from the police post and Javert's
flat. She had intended to check both locations before quickly returning home to wait if he was not
there. Two dirty, hungry looking little boys approached her, wanting money for something to eat. As
she reached into her coat for a few sous, a rather unkempt young man snatched the threadbare pouch
that the older boy was about to put the money in. "Stop! Thief!!" Victoria called. "Arrest that man!"
The man paused for a moment, then seeing no police or anyone who seemed to care, decided that
Victoria was a much better mark than the little street urchins. "Ah, Mademoiselle, I am so sorry!"
He said, sarcastically, throwing the pouch he'd stolen back at the boys. The older boy retrieved it,
and grabbed his little brother's arm and they ran away. Before Victoria could run as well, the man
grabbed her roughly and kissed her on the lips. She screamed. The man raised his hand to slap her,
but was unable to do so, because his arm was being forcibly and painfully wrenched behind his back.
He cried out in pain.
"You are under arrest. Do not make another sound," Javert hissed. "Or I shan't be responsible!"
He tightened his grip as he deftly cuffed the man, who had gone completely silent, in fear for his life.
"Javert!" Victoria cried. "I'mI'm sorry!"
Javert looked at her scathingly, his steely eyes darkened to stormy gray. "We shall talk later. Now
you must come with me and make your report."
After the dreadful business at the police post, Javert and Victoria rode silently to her home in the
hired fiacre. Victoria was amazed at how detached the inspector had remained throughout, in spite of
his fury, which was only obvious to her. She kept telling herself, "It is the profession, not the
manisn't it?"
When they arrived, Javert walked her to her door. They stood silent for a short moment.
"Do you realize what might have happened?" Javert finally smouldered.
Victoria trembled. "There was no harm done" She began.
"You might have been robbed, beaten, raped or worse!"
"But I wasn't, you see---nothing happened!" She pleaded.
"The streets of Paris are no place for a lady alone---the things I've seen--the very thought!" He
continued, fairly shaking with still unaccustomed emotion.
"Stop treating me like a child!" Victoria protested, angry now.
"How else shall I treat you if that's how you behave?" Javert retorted.
"How dare you! And to think I was so worried! I couldn't wait to see you, so I went to find you---like
a stupid, STUPID child!!! Well, never again, I tell you!"
Silence.
"You wish me to leave, then?" Javert seethed.
"I wish you to understand!" Victoria responded.
Javert's expression softened a little. "I will listen." He said softly, already beginning to feel sorry for
giving in to his temper.
They went into the parlor and sat down on the sofa. Until then, they had been standing, arguing in the
entryway.
"Oh Javert!" Victoria said, much more calmly. "I'm so sorry---I was just so"
She blinked away tears and tried again. "Perhaps you know already. I'm desperately in love with
you. There, I've said it. I hope I'm not too forward saying so, but"
Javert gently laid a finger upon Victoria's trembling lips. "Shh." He said gently. "I do understand.
Now it's important that you listen to everything I tell you,"
Victoria's eyes grew wide. She would hang on his every word.
"I should be dead now." Javert said resolutely. "Dead, and burning in Hell for all eternity. That is
the end I should have come to." He paused, long enough for Victoria to want to say something, but
she remained silent as he continued. "Were it not for what you did, I should certainly be no more."
Victoria was a little frightened. What was he leading to? Did he no longer want her? She shuddered.
"I have spent a good deal of time reflecting" He revealed. "on my future. A future that I once
had no intention of surviving. Now, I see that I was wrong, and I want to live, but" He paused, his
own lips quivering. "Not without you."
Victoria looked up at him. "Do you love me, Javert?"
"Yes." He said, simply. "Yes, I do."
Sobbing, Victoria reached out and took Javert's now trembling hands. He pulled her close, and they
kissed, more passionately than ever before. Both were breathless when they finally pulled away, but
they lingered, holding each other for a long while before Javert trusted himself to speak again.
"When I thought what might have happened to you---Victoria, I cannot lose you. Perhaps now you
understand why I reacted soI certainly understand you better now."
"Yes." Victoria whispered. "I will never cause you such pain again, I promise."
Javert pulled the small parcel out of his coat pocket. At first Victoria thought he was going to take
some snuff, although he rarely did so in her presence. She couldn't have blamed him at this
point---indeed, she would surely have asked that he share. She was pleased to see that it was not his
snuffbox at all, but a rather pretty silver box. Javert did not open it, but said, "Victoria, my angel. I
do love you. I have never been more certain of anything else in my life. I thought I was absolutely
certain of many things before---but since I've known youVictoria---I wish to spend the rest of my
life with you."
He opened the box. In it was a ring, elegant in its simplicity, bearing a single stone. Victoria gasped
in delight. "Ask me, Javert!" She cried impulsively. "Oh, do ask me!"
"Marry me?" He asked.
"Oh yes!" Victoria cried. "Upon my word, I thought I would have to ask you!"
He gently slipped the ring onto her delicate finger. It was a perfect fit. Javert's talent for observation
had richly paid off. "I shan't ever take it off!" Victoria declared, holding her hand out so they could
admire it.
"I love you, Javert!"
They kissed again, deeply passionate, but they somehow managed to remain chaste for the rest of
the night.
They saw no need for Javert to return to his flat that night, except perhaps, for appearance's sake.
As for the two of them, neither one cared what anybody else thought. They were in love, and that was
enough.
Javert nervously paced while he anxiously waited for the ceremony to begin. Victoria had insisted
that he not be allowed to see her until then. "Confound it all!" He muttered, not thinking anyone had
heard. Someone had. He turned around quickly to find Monsieur Gillenormand and Marius
Pontmercy, laughing at him, quite openly. "I fail to see the humor in this situation, gentlemen."
Javert said, moodily, which of course drew fresh guffaws. "He's in quite a state, isn't he, my boy?"
The old man addressed his grandson, as if Javert was no longer in the room. "Quite so,
Grandfather." Marius replied. "Far worse than I was!"
"Not that far!" The old man laughed. "Never mind, my boy!" He addressed Javert, slapping him on
the back as though the two were old buddies. "It'll soon be overand you'll be the better for it, I'd
wagerjust ask Marius here! He knows! Well, it's time I found my seatcoming Marius?"
"Coming Grandfather, in just a moment. I'll catch up with you. Tell Cosette I won't be a minute if
she's there before me!"
After the old man left, Marius and Javert were alone. "I daresay, you've done well for yourself,
Insepector. You've made Victoria a very happy woman. I'm sure you will do right by her."
"She is indeed everything to me, Monsieur le Baron. I will not let her down." Javert replied, then
almost as an afterthought, "Did you have something to say to me, Monsieur?"
"It's just thatwell, I don't understand. I know how you pursued my wife's fathermade his life a
living Hell, if I may say soI remember you from the barricades. You were a police spy. How does a
man like you change soso completely?" Marius was curious. He wanted an explanation.
"It is just as you say, Monsieur." Javert began. "Some men can never change, but Jean Valjean did,
and after a fashion, so did I. It is the Lord's doing, of that I am convinced."
"I would never have believed it. I certainly did not believe it of Valjean, until Thenardier came to me
with proof." Marius suddenly remembered something. "Thenardier. He had newspaper clippings that
declared you dead, but surely by that time you had revealed yourself alive and returned to duty
Why did you not demand that the paper retract your obituary?"
"I saw no reason to demand retraction, and the Prefecture concurred." Javert replied. "And if such
men as Thenardier still believed me dead, so much the better. I never attempted to hide my
whereabouts thereafter, so it is Thenardier's own fault if he did not realize his blunder."
Marius chuckled at that. It was true enough. And it was also true that Valjean had forgiven Javert;
so had Cosette, out of love for her father, and so, Marius determined, must he.
"Well, I must say I'm glad things have all worked out the way they have. Congratulations, Monsieur
L'Inspecteur!"
"Oh Victoria, you look beautiful!" Cosette Pontmercy gushed at the nervous bride-to-be. "Let me
help you with your hair." Cosette finished combing Victoria's lovely raven tresses into a beautiful
upswept coiffure, with soft curls trailing softly about her neck. Victoria was thrilled. It had been over
a year since she'd worn her hair is such an elegant style.
"Thank you so much, Cosette." Victoria said, sincerely grateful for the help. "All things considered,
I was pleasantly surprised when you said you'd come and help me prepare for my weddingbut I'm
so happy you're here."
"Not another word, Victoria. I'm glad to do it! And you know that Aunt Gillenormand would have
gladly been here to help as well, had she not been called away."
"Of course. I do hope everything is well with her. She is a good friend of my Aunt Elisabeth."
Victoria missed her aunt more than ever now. She tried to put that out of her mind, and asked, "How
does my dress look?"
"As beautiful as when you sat for the portrait! You are the perfect bride, my dear!"
Victoria turned around, and there in the doorway was her dear Aunt Elisabeth, standing with Mlle.
Gillenormand, who had gone to meet her.
"Aunt Elisabeth!" Victoria squealed. "I---I'm so glad you've come! Why didn't you tell me you'd
come back?"
"Well, then, my dear, it would not have been a surprise!" Elisabeth embraced Victoria warmly, then
held her at arm's length to get a better look at her. "Your parents would have been so proud. Your
mother most of all, since you resemble her so!"
"I hope that's true!" Victoria replied. She could barely believe that her aunt had returned to attend
her wedding. Didn't Aunt Elisabeth disapprove? Victoria had to know.
"Aunt ElisabethI'm thrilled that you're here, make no mistake about that, but I don't understand.
When you left, you made it quite clear that you did not approve!"
Elisabeth smiled. "Well, my dear, were it not for the very convincing correspondence I'd begun to
receive soon after I arrived in London, I might yet be there!"
"But I never tried to sway you, Elisabeth!" Victoria said, puzzled. "Although perhaps I should
have"
An idea struck her. "Then it was your doing, Mlle. Gillenormand!"
"Would that I could take the credit, child!" Mlle. Gillenormand's eyes twinkled. "Although I also
began corresponding with your aunt at that time, I had no part in convincing her!"
"Who, then?" Victoria asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
Cosette and the older ladies looked at each other and smiled, then Elisabeth told Victoria.
"Why, it was your dear Inspector himself!"
The wedding turned out to be a lovely, simple and elegant affair. It took place in Victoria's garden,
where the guests assembled on several chairs and benches. It was just Victoria's extended
family---the Gillenormands and the Pontmercys, as well as a few friends and neighbors. It was a
beautiful day, and the roses were yet in bloom. After what seemed to Javert an interminably long
wait, Victoria came out and took her place beside him. Javert thought that he might faint, or indeed,
was dreaming, when this woman, his angel from the portrait in the bedroom, came to life before his
eyes. Victoria did look angelic, in the soft royal blue silk gown, trimmed in delicate lace. He had
never seen her with her hair upswept, and was immediately dumbstruck. He only hoped he could say
his vows correctly. Victoria smiled, her eyes glistening, and simply whispered. "It is right." Suddenly
calm, with all the certainty of a long hoped for wish fulfilled, Javert repeated. "It is right." And so,
they were married.
Their future, so uncertain before, now promised much contentment for Monsieur and Madame
Javert. Complete redemption for him, after over fifty years of tragedy, Javert would be eternally
grateful for the angel that pulled him from Death into Life. Victoria would thank the Lord for her
happiness regained, because she saved a life, and at the same time, restored her own. There would
be infinite possibilities ahead. Perhaps there would even be children. Certainly, there would be
love---and that, finally, to Javert's continued, utter amazement, was the thing that mattered most.