Marius had departed, but Cosette lingered in the garden. The night was lovely, and she was hesitant to go inside and waste the rest of it on sleep. When she heard the footsteps beyond the gate, she first thought that her love had returned.
"So, this is our competition." It was not Marius' voice. She stood and moved closer to the gate. It was too dark to see clearly, but she could tell that this was a young gentleman, perhaps not much older than herself, and nothing to fear. "My apologies if I startled you," he continued. "I saw an acquaintance of mine leave here. He has been distracted recently, and I saw a chance to discover by whom. I will be no less discreet with that knowledge than he has, but I would like a word with you before I go." There was something almost other worldly about the boy.
"I understand that you must be very fond of your Pontmercy, but he will be required for a higher purpose. Sooner or later, the time must come when he will have to decide whom he serves. I ask that you do your own little part for the future, and ensure that he chooses correctly. Send him away, so that without distraction, he will return to those who need him more."
"Could I not help him instead?" Cosette asked, puzzled.
Of course the girl didn't understand. Even setting considerations of secrecy aside, he could not very well explain that her young man would possibly wind up dead or in prison and expect her to comply. She had that fragility of innocence, sweet but not suited for trying times. "There are some sacrifices that cannot be asked of young girls," he explained, that haunted tone creeping out in his voice. He was haunted, not by the cries of the dead, but by the rustle of petticoats. As he left, he could not help but think of his personal ghosts, still alive but to whom he must be dead for their own good.
Cosette sighed. "Men."