Chapter Six: The River Seine

Tuesday, June 6, 1832


Early the next morning, Éponine stopped in an alley leading to the Rue de la Chanvrerie, watching. The revolutionaries rested beneath the shadow of the barricade, saving their strength for the battles. She adjusted the beret to make sure it completely covered her hair and crept as quietly as she could towards the barricade. She had just reached the foot of the blockade when someone stirred beside her. Marius stood up, an irritated expression on his face.

"What are you doing here, boy?" he asked angrily. "A revolution is no place for a girl, 'Ponine!"

"Under whose authority?" she hissed back. "Society? Men? I have just as much right to be here as you do, Marius!"

"You're going to get shot and killed, 'Ponine!"

"You're in just as much danger as I am! Why should you stay? Oh, that's right— because you're a man, and I'm a weak, spineless woman who supposedly can't take care of myself. Is that it?"

"'Ponine!" Marius sighed irately and pulled a letter out of his waistcoat pocket. "Will you deliver this for me?"

"Who's it for?" Éponine asked warily.

"Cosette. Please, 'Ponine."

"I—" She sighed and snatched the letter out of his hand. "Fine," she snapped. "But I'm coming back."

She turned and strode towards the alley, still fuming. Marius was dismissing her again. Why couldn't he see— why couldn't they all see— that she had just as much right as they did to fight? They were fighting for people like her, after all, and—

"Éponine."

She turned to see Enjolras and flushed faintly despite herself, all thoughts of Marius flying out of her head. "Yes, Enjolras?"

"I know you don't like hearing it, Éponine, but it's for the best that you deliver the letter instead of staying here."

"Enjolras—"

"You are completely proficient enough to defend yourself; there is no doubt about that. But I do not want to see you hurt, Éponine— or, God forbid, killed."

His eyes held a sincerity that Éponine rarely saw. He seemed genuinely concerned for her well fare. She found herself wishing he were concerned for more than just her well-being. "I—"

"Please, Éponine." He reached out and took her hand. She blushed so deeply she was sure he could see, even in the pale morning light. "I could not bear to see you killed."

"Make sure you stay alive, Enjolras," she replied, looking in his eyes. He released her hand and— unconsciously, it seemed— gently, softly, touched her cheek. She felt herself smiling shyly, savoring the sensation of his fingers brushing her skin. His dark eyes held an expression she could not quite read.

Then, at the same moment, they realized what they were doing and both took a step back. She blushed even deeper, if such a thing were possible, and turned to leave.

Then she turned to face him once more. "Be careful, Enjolras." He nodded and tried to say something, but seemed to falter. She smiled softly again, butterflies exploding in her stomach, and forced herself to leave.


Éponine wandered to Rue Plumet in a daze. What just happened?

The street was still quiet as she approached number 55. Cosette's father was the only other person in the street. He stacked luggage as Éponine moved towards him.

"Monsieur, I have a letter for your daughter Cosette, from a student at the Rue de Villette." The man straightened and extended his hand. Éponine shook her head. "The student told me only Cosette must receive the letter, monsieur."

"I promise you my daughter will read this letter." When Éponine handed him the letter, Cosette's father reached inside his pocket and gave her a sou. As she turned to go, the man caught her arm. "Be careful," he said, and Éponine somehow knew he could see straight through her disguise. She nodded, uneasy, and left.


Éponine went to the Pont au Change after she delivered the letter. She went to the steps leading down to the embankment and sat on the top step, hidden from sight.

Something had happened at the Rue de la Chanvrerie, something that Éponine had never felt with Marius. It made her feel weak and lightheaded.

You're not yourself, 'Ponine, she chastened herself. The Éponine everyone saw would never go weak-kneed after a man. Éponine drew her knees under her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs.

Beneath the strong, unwavering façade she presented to the world, Éponine wished for something that every girl wished for— to marry for love. Of course she wished for that to come true— she supposed she wouldn't be normal if she didn't— but she had accepted long ago that it would never happen. Her mother hadn't married for love, and Éponine expected to be no different. However, meeting Marius had changed that. She used to— carefully, cautiously, hesitantly— let herself dream of a life where she was cared for. She wasn't foolish enough to expect it to come true, but she let herself dream.

Now, with what happened at the barricade…

It had been difficult, but Éponine had managed to do it— she convinced herself that she did not love Marius anymore. He was a good friend, true, but she did not love him. She could see now that her "love" for Marius had, in the recent weeks, become almost like a habit; she dreamed about him without a thought of doing anything different. She had heard firsthand Marius confessing his love for Cosette, and nothing would change that.

Enjolras— Éponine felt herself blushing again— Enjolras made her feel different. He listened to her when she spoke her opinions about the National Guard, which was more than Marius had ever done. He went out of his way to speak with her, which was what no other nobleman would have done.

Éponine cautiously let her mind replay certain events that came to her thoughts. The day in the commons area, which she had literally run into him. The time in the café, when they had looked at the map together. The night before the revolution started, when his smile made her forget everything. And now, at the barricade.

Am I foolish? she asked herself. Will it turn out like the situation with Marius?

Éponine knew the only way to find out was to go back to the barricade.