Finally, after an eternity, they sprung out of the doors and collapsed on the opera steps.

"Is everyone here?" Feuilly asked, as they regained their breath. Combeferre did a quick head count. The only ones missing were Joly and Bossuet, who had been accounted for.

Then the sound of sobbing was heard. Charlotte was sitting on the steps, her shawl missing, crying.

"Charlotte? Are you all right?" Combeferre asked. Charlotte lifted her head to reveal a large bruise on her cheek. "Let me see it," he said with a smile. Combeferre knelt down and examined her cheek. She must have gotten it when she was pushed to the floor. "It's all right, just a bruise. It isn't even bleeding. It'll heal on its own." Charlotte nodded.

" And I tripped the man who gave it to me, too." She said proudly through her tears. " I'm not crying about the bruise. I'm just frightened—that's all. I've never seen anything like that." Combeferre gave her a reassuring smile.

"That's good. It was nothing to worry about, Charlotte—just a little fight." Charlotte nodded and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, "Is anyone else injured? Jehan, are you breathing all right?" Jehan nodded. Courfeyrac smiled sheepishly.

"Just a few bruises." He said. " The usual."

"Other than a ripped dress," Musichetta said, "I'm fine. And look, Françoise, you lost your feathers!"

"Did I?" Françoise said, patting her hair nervously, " Oh, well. I didn't like those any way. Wasn't that exciting! I'm sure it was much better than the opera would have ever been!"

"Yes, exciting." Angelique said sarcastically. She was clinging to Courfeyrac's arm. "I am never going anywhere with you all again!"

"Angelique, you know you don't mean that." Courfeyrac said, giving her his prettiest smile.

"Well, perhaps I'll make an exception for you." She admitted.

"It was rather exciting, wasn't it?" Jehan said wistfully. " That was the first riot I've ever seen! My only regret is I didn't get to shed blood in the name of the republic."

"You started the whole thing, Jehan, be happy with that." Feuilly admonished, though he too, looked almost proud. Jehan blushed.

"Well, one can't have everything." He said. " Still, it was a victory of sorts. A.B.Z. aside, look how many men joined in on our side! Almost no one defended the king when I said he was a dictator. That must mean something."

"In a roundabout way, yes, it does." Combeferre agreed, cleaning his glasses thoughtfully, " It means that at least some of those who believe as we do are not frightened of fighting in the name of our cause. I'm rather glad that happened, somehow. It shows we can depend on the people to be incensed when the time comes."

"What are you all talking about?" Françoise squawked.

"Nothing." Courfeyrac said. He clapped his hands decisively, " Well, as we have all had a very full night, I suggest we all go our separate ways. I will take Angelique home."

"Yes, I think that would be wise." Combeferre said, " And perhaps we should not meet for a few days. A week perhaps. Just to be sure."

"That sounds like a good idea." Feuilly agreed. " Jehan, shall we go?"

"As soon as I've gotten my breath." Jehan said, " This time, I swear, I am never running again! I've had enough running in one night to last me a lifetime!"

"I'll come with you." Françoise cut in.

"Ah—perhaps you should come with me, Françoise." Musichetta said, "You and I go the same way. We'll walk together, it isn't so late."

"All right, so we'll all meet at the Musain in a week." Combeferre said, and turned to go, before he remembered Charlotte, still sitting on the steps. "Charlotte? How are you getting home?" he asked, turning to her. He found, to his surprise, Enjolras of all people sitting next to her.

"Enjolras?" Combeferre said, unable to believe his eyes.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, citoyenne." Enjolras was saying quietly to Charlotte. The girl had stopped crying and was looking at him almost reverently. " Jehan is not usually like that, and the rest of us don't pick fights for the sake of it. Whoever had the disrespect and disregard to push you aside was no friend of ours, and no friend of the republic. Please do not judge us by our actions tonight. We are better men than that." Charlotte nodded slowly.

"Ah, Enjolras," Courfeyrac said, a huge grin on his face, " Perhaps you should walk Mademoiselle Charlotte home?" Enjolras got up.

"I would—but I must meet Joly and Bossuet at the Musain. Combeferre, perhaps you could…"

"I will walk her home." Combeferre agreed. Courfeyrac gave him a look that could burn toast, but Combeferre had sworn off playing matchmaker forever.

"Very well." Enjolras said. " Then I'll see you at home, later, Combeferre." He turned to Charlotte and held out a hand to help her up. " It was nice meeting you, Citoyenne Gautier." Charlotte smile and blushed beet red as she put her hand in his.

"Very nice meeting you as well." She responded. Enjolras smiled at her and left for the Musain. The others bid each other good night and went their separate ways, until only Combeferre and Courfeyrac were left. Angelique was talking inaudibly to Charlotte—most likely about Enjolras.

"Well, did you see that?" Courfeyrac whispered when they were alone.

"Yes." Combeferre agreed. "He left. He has no more interest in her than in any other woman."

"But he—he called her 'citoyenne!' He only does that with people he likes-it's like using 'tu' for him. That must mean something!"

"Perhaps it means he is a bit fond of her." Combeferre admitted, "But we know him. He will never see her again. Enjolras just isn't the type, Courfeyrac."

"But you must admit, if it would have been anyone, it would have been her."

"I admit she came closer than any other woman." Combeferre said, " But that isn't saying much."

"But there was something there!"

"Almost nothing."

"Oh, perhaps you're right." Courfeyrac finally admitted. " He's hopeless. But at least he proved to us that he isn't afraid of women. I mean, if he could deal with Françoise, he could deal with anyone." Combeferre laughed.

"Yes, you're right."

"Of course I'm right! But you know something, Combeferre; I just can't get the thought out of my head that he might have known her from somewhere. I mean, perhaps that explains it—he was kinder to her because he remembers her?"

"Perhaps." Combeferre said, suddenly remembering that. " I will ask him about it later. It can't do any harm." Angelique and Charlotte, obviously through with their discussion and tired of waiting, came up to them.

"Can we go?" Angelique said, linking her arm through Courfeyrac's.

"Yes, I think we should." Courfeyrac said with a devilish grin. " Good night, Combeferre, Charlotte."

"Good night," Combeferre returned, " Come on, citoyenne," he said to Charlotte, " I'll walk you home."