/Cosette/

"We're not leaving?" I asked with disbelief. Papa shook his head, then settled on the chaise lounge beside me. He let his gray head drop into large hands. "Whatever is the matter, Papa?" I asked. I hadn't talked to him the previous night, my own silent protest at leaving Marius. Of course, he didn't know of my beloved. He only thought I was mournful at leaving the Rue Plumet, though it was true that I was overtly fond of our home there. I anxiously smoothed my forest-green skirt then patted his broad shoulder.

"Cosette...I've deceived you." Papa's voice was very weary. He mournfully lifted his head and reached into his jacket. Then he presented me with an unsealed envelope. I took it, apprehension clearly written over my face.

"What's this?" I murmured, taking out a folded piece of paper. Papa remained silent, and refused to look at me. Nervously I read aloud, " 'Dearest Cosette, you have entered my soul and soon you will be gone. Can it be only a day since we met and the world was reborn? If I should fall in the battle to come, let this be my goodbye. Now that I know you love me as well it is harder to die... I pray that god will bring me home to be with you. Pray for your Marius, he prays for you!' ''

He had written me a poem! A brilliant, romantic poem! Then the meaning of his pretty words sunk in. Oh God, a battle? I had prayed for Marius faithfully since we had parted, but I hadn't even thought he could die. He had seemed untouchable, a God, someone to be revered and eternal. And now he could be dead. Dramatically, I clutched the letter to my chest and demanded, "When did you receive this?"

Papa still wouldn't meet my eyes. "Nearly two days ago," he murmured with a rough voice. For the first time in my life, I felt true genuine fury. Perhaps even hatred. How could he have kept that from me? How dishonest and cruel could he be! I hadn't been angry when he insisted we leave, I hadn't been angry when he never explained the facts of my mysterious life, I hadn't been angry with our lonely lives. Now I was furious.

"Papa, I can't believe you hid this from me! Marius might be dead! How could you be so awful?" I screamed. Then, in an almost embarrassing manor, I collapsed upon the chaise lounge. Tears streamed down my face. Papa tried to hand me a handkerchief, but I turned away from him. In my childishness, I realized that I had hidden Marius from him. He hadn't angrily lashed out at me, but I was doing it to my own dear father. And yet...our situations were terribly different. A life, a precious and beloved life, was on the line.

"I went to the barricade." Papa spoke quietly, timidly. I immediately straightened from couch and looked at him. My ridiculously hopeful expression caused him to grimace. "He wasn't there. A few other men were missing as well."

"How were the conditions? Were the rest of the men alright? Did Marius write another letter for me?" I anxiously dried my tears and rose from the lounge. Then I proceeded to pace while I drilled my father with desperate questions. Again, he wouldn't look at me. I instinctively knew he was going to say something terrible, or say nothing at all. "Tell me, Papa! Tell me even if it's horrid news. I must know!" He looked to the ground. I fell to my knees in front of him, so he was forced to look into my eyes. The way he acted saddened me. Suddenly, he looked like a withered old man, not the strong Papa I had known. I felt ashamed of my behavior. Quietly and apologetically, I murmured, "Please Papa. Tell me."

"There were no survivors."

I gasped with horror. Then I remembered that Marius hadn't been on the scene. Perhaps he was safe! I refused to acknowledge that he might have died. It wasn't possible that I could live in a world devoid of Marius Pontmercy. It suddenly struck me. How completely Marius had infiltrated my very being. I'd never be lively without a reason to live, and he was that reason.

I anxiously ran my hands through my hair and began to pace once more. Then I realized that Papa had gone to the barricade. "Papa, why did you go?"

He finally looked at me. "I went to find your-" he paused and shuddered, "-your Marius. I wanted to save him from his fate, and tell him that he could wed you." I gasped and stared at him for a few moments. I never apologized for my earlier behavior, and I understood that I never would. In a moment of sudden clarity, I realized that there would be a rift between us now. I'd always love Papa, and he would love me, but it wouldn't be the same as before - innocent, honest, unconditional. So instead of clasping his worn hands into my own and declaring my apologies, I walked over to the window and peered out into the night sky. Then I said, "We must find him."

The next morning, Papa had our belongings transferred back into the house on the Rue Plumet. There were awkward silences between us, but I made no attempt to talk to him. I was no longer being petty, I just had nothing to say. Not to him. The vain questions about my childhood no longer plagued my mind. I realized it didn't matter to me. Those years had passed, and I was alive and well. Only Marius mattered, and his whereabouts were unknown.

"Cosette? Is there anyway you'll ever forgive me?" he anxiously asked on the carriage ride to the barricade. I looked at him for a moment. Poor old man. I could think of no answer. It wasn't that I hadn't forgiven him...it was more like he repelled me now.

"Papa...I'm lost until he's found." I hoped more words conveyed all of the burning emotions in my heart. Papa nodded, and he sadly smoothed down a rebellious auburn curl against my forehead. Then he pulled out my lacy bonnet. He had recently bought it for me, and I remembered how I had joyously exclaimed over its girlish charm. I had been wearing it the day Marius and I met.

"You left this at home."

"I don't wish to have it now, but I'll wear it after we've found Marius. If he's on the streets somewhere, he be able to recognize me from my hair. If I'm wearing the bonnet, I'll look like any other girl." Papa nodded and put the bonnet away. We rode in silence, then we reached the barricade. I nearly fell out of the carriage.

"No! No, Cosette! You can't go in there! It's not a sight for you to see." Papa commanded, then tried to lift me back into the carriage. I struggled against him. The driver pretended not to notice.

"Papa! Stop! What if Marius is in there? You don't even know what he looks like!"

"I know what he looks like. Trust me, Cosette, you won't want to see inside the barricade. Do you smell that particular smell? It is the stench of death. There is only death and agony waiting for you there." His words chilled me, but I firmly grabbed his hand. My facial expression made it clear that I was going with him. Papa sighed, but entered the barricade. The scent was overwhelming. It was horrible and noxious, with a sickly sweet tainting that you could almost taste. My eyes began to water. Then I saw the bodies. Papa tried to block them from my sight, but they were there nonetheless. Young men, old men, learned men and poor men. All dead, rotting and covered in blood. They had been Marius' friends and it broke my heart to see them laying there, forgotten and abandoned. Briefly I recalled how Marius had talked of them so fondly. Thank God above, my beloved wasn't there. We left the barricade, and for a few moments I could only shudder.

"We must continue on," I told Papa. He nodded. Brilliantly, he suggested we talk to the local doctors to see if Marius had approached them. For the first three, there were no results. My heart was despairing. Papa was the one to converse with the doctors, but he allowed me the honor of describing Marius in all his glory. One doctor didn't stop staring at me, and it made me quite uncomfortable. Papa was unpleasant to him, but I was fine with Papa's behavior. It's so impolite to stare. The fourth doctor had, praise the Lord, answers for us. He said that a man fitting Marius' description had been taken in by a mysterious young heiress. She wore a veil over her face, and had gone to the barricade with him and another doctor to collect any living men. Then she had them brought to her mansion to be tended.

At first, I felt indescribable relief. While the doctor gave directions to the heiress' home, my relief began to fade into another feeling. It was a strange sensation, a tingling the back of my mind that made my lips curl and my stomach clench in doubt. What if the heiress saw Marius' perfection and fell in love with him? What if he thought I had abandoned him and chose to stay with the heiress? Oh, bloody heiress! Then I nearly gasped. The general unpleasantness of my thoughts astounded me. I had just cursed! Granted, it had been in my mind, but that was still so very improper and unchristian. With a faint blush crawling over my features, I recognized that I had been feeling jealousy. Papa had once told me that jealousy was like a disease, once felt, it quickly consumed. I understood the meaning of his words. If I had let my thoughts continue, I would have been ready to murder the poor girl when I saw her. Still, I was quite ready to go and see Marius and rescue him from the clutches of a veiled heiress.