Chapter Four

Night time was closing in and the creatures of the dark began to awaken, as if the moon's bright glow had taken the place of the sun's rightful duty.

There were only three men sitting in the lighted ABC café. The Les Amis de l'ABC had not yet been formed. These three men were like a little child who knew how to stand but had not learned to walk; they knew what they stood for, but knowing is a very different thing from doing.

One of the men was laughing loudly with a bottle in his hand. It was Grantaire.

"Be quiet!" said Enjolras. With his head resting on one hand and the other hand scratching away with a pen, the young man seemed unaware of the time that vanished swiftly with the monotonous ticking of the clock.

"Why?" replied the other, his voice rising even higher, even louder, with each scratch of pen. It rose, bringing Enjolras's temper along.

"Perhaps," said Combeferre soothingly in a calm voice, "Perhaps we should all get some rest. After all, it is getting dark out."

"What!" Enjolras looked up from hisc work, glancing out the window. It was true. Streaks of light were disappearing from the sky as dusk swept in. "What time is it?"

"A quarter to seven, I believe. Why?"

"I have an appointment!" The man pushed back his bench, stood up, and rushed to the door, putting on his coat hurriedly.

"Appointment? With a mademoiselle, perhaps?" cried Grantaire, still laughing. "So it seems you're just the same as the rest of us, Enjolras! You work, work, work all day! But who would have known it was just a façade?"

"I have no time for you!" said Enjolras. "Take care of the drunkard, Combeferre!"

Combeferre nodded solemnly, but as Enjolras disappeared into the street, a smile crossed the philosophic student's face, and with a nod to Grantaire, shook his blond head.

As for Enjolras, he was hurrying to Monsieur Fauchelevent's home on the Rue Plumet.

The darkness continued to weave its way into the earth, pushing itself into every little corner, attacking the pale light the way silence quiets headaching noise. But in this case, the darkness was unwelcome. At least, to the fearful citizens of France, it was unwelcome.

But as for the eldest Thenardier girl, she embraced the night with open arms. The hour had arrived when she could walk in the streets without facing the scorn of the rich. Now the cool darkness shadowed her face, concealing every emotion, every sin. She could now walk freely with no shame. No one could look at her and see the guilt she felt for her horrible life, because the night wrapped itself around her with comforting obscurity.

Gavroche had said his farewells and left her, as she continued to watch the man who saved her from prison.

This man she now followed, under cover of darkness, to the house on the Rue Plumet.

…

"Come in, Monsieur," said Valjean.

Enjolras entered, his figure disappearing in a haze of light that came from the inside, as Eponine, that silent shadow, remained in the darkness, unable to go in. How she longed to enter, to tell him how grateful she felt! If only she could go in! But the light which welcomed the young man warmly remained strange and cold to her.

The door closed.

"Cosette, this is Monsieur Enjolras. Monsieur, this is my daughter, Cosette."

Enjolras turned to the short, slender figure before him. She was smiling at him, her bright brown eyes beautiful and curious.

"Mademoiselle," said he.

"It is a pleasure to meet you!" replied the girl in a high, singing voice.

He looked back at her for a moment, and then turned to the father.

"I hear you are trying to…" the father turned and with Enjolras beside him, walked to the dining room, leaving Cosette to follow.

Cosette already knew much about this young man. It took only a day to find as much information as was possible. He was a handsome young student from a wealthy family, passionate about liberty and rights and all sorts of things that men were interested in those days and yet tried not to be. Certainly he was a gentleman; there could be no doubt about that, when he fought so fervently for the poor!

Now here he was in person. And everything she had learned about him became true in every possible sense. Thoughts, questions, began to push themselves into the young, pretty Cosette's mind.

Perhaps it was love at first sight. She did not know. The two men continued to talk, and she listened, smiling pleasantly and listening attentively. Inside she was thinking and talking to herself, just as when she had been a poor little beggar child in Madame Thenardier's home. She felt no emotions at all.

…

Eponine waited outside, hoping for him to come out. But he still hadn't come out and the night was closing in. She would have to thank him some other time. With this resolve in mind, Eponine left the Rue Plumet and wandered listlessly around Paris. It was evening, and the citizens were all inside, eating supper and preparing for sleep.

It was at this time that Eponine saw Monsieur Marius Pontmercy.

Eponine was in a state of misery. Here she was, alone in the moonlight, walking in the streets with no loved one waiting at the door, no mother and father to welcome her home, yes, not even a bright home with a warm fire to greet her. She was alone. This poor, miserable rose had lived with the reality for all her life, but seeing the light that had welcomed her savior and shut her out, the truth became even more pressing, even more painful. The darkness became perilous; the night, which had been like her shield, now felt treacherous.

She was alone in the sinister shadows, shunned from all that was loving, good, and bright.

And it was with these emotions that she saw Monsieur Marius Pontemercy.

The instant her eyes met his, she felt that she no longer needed to hide in the dark; he looked at her with gentle sympathy, and she looked back with hope. He smiled, and she no longer felt alone.