Author's Note: I should start by saying thank you very much to my loyal readers who have stuck by this fanfic despite the delay in installments and for the new readers who have stumbled upon my work and continue to favourite it. It's greatly appreciated and keeps me motivated. I can only apologise for the delay in having my work updated. I suffered from brief writer's block and found myself knowing what I wanted to write but unable to find the right words. Eventually it came in the form of this short chapter and I promise the next chapter will be longer. Enjoy!
Upon hearing Éponine's shrill scream, Cosette and Marius had been quick to bid farewell. Without a second glance, the girl had dashed indoors, fuelled by the fear that her father would catch her having been outdoors so late. That would only raise suspicions and perhaps jeopardise her chance of seeing Marius again. By the time she reached her bedroom she was flustered and breathless - from the brief exhilaration of rebellion or from simple exhaustion she did not know – and before she had the opportunity to compose herself, her father burst into the room.
"My God, Cosette! I heard a cry and it startled me! Are you alright?'
His eyes were wide and filled with alarm, his entire body tensed.
"It was me who cried out, Papa! I heard voices out on the street and looked out of my window. There were three men beyond the wall and I scared them off."
This evidently came as no reassurance to the man and his next reaction both puzzled and frightened Cosette. He had paled significantly upon the mention of three men loitering in front of their home and had stumbled out of her room in his haste. Disconcerted, if not dazed, the girl remained frozen on her bed, listening to the sounds of impatient slamming of drawers and frenzied rummaging as her father darted around like a blind dog in a meat store. If she strained to hear, she could just decipher snippets of his frantic mumbling: "found my cover…got to get away…Calais…".
"Papa?" she quavered, failing to conceal her concern.
"Hurry, Cosette, prepare to leave. We are going away."
"But, Papa!" she protested, rising to her feet.
"Say no more, Cosette! We need a change and this is an opportunity to do so. Tomorrow, we leave for Calais."
With that, her father shut her out and closed his bedroom door, leaving Cosette to stare blankly at it in stunned silence. What had caused her father to panic and feel it necessary to take such a drastic and brash decision? And what of Monsieur Marius? She may never see him again! The very thought of losing her fine prince after just discovering him made her tremble and her heart fill with despair. The blonde girl dashed downstairs to her father's office and rummaged in his desk for a piece of paper and ink bottle and began to write. Satisfied after reading it over, she sealed the envelope and slipped outside. Cosette was slightly disappointed to see Marius had not dared to return as she lodged the letter between two railings of the grand gate that separated her from the world, in a hope he would discover it. It was then that a figure caught her eye. A boy, with his head bowed, his face hidden beneath a red newsboy cap, was leaning up against a wall just across the street. He appeared to be waiting for someone or something. He was dressed against the cold air with a brown overcoat and trousers.
Cosette knew better than to speak to strangers, especially given the incident tonight which had so dreadfully roused her father. Yet, her young mind was consumed with thoughts of Marius and she needed to know he would get her letter.
"Excuse me!" Cosette called, her blue eyes pleading.
In response, the boy looked up and hesitantly approached. As the figure neared the light, Cosette caught a glimpse of a grimy face, damp with the rain that had fallen earlier.
"Could you deliver this letter to a Monsieur Marius? I believe he is fighting on one of the barricades."
Gently taking the letter, the boy simply nodded. And yet, Cosette could see something in his eyes; a glimmer of recognition, a deep sorrow. Cosette rummaged in the pocket of her dress and offered the boy the eight sous she had. She looked disdainful; she wished she could give him more. Yet, the boy gently pushed her hand away, declining, and Cosette flinched at the freezing touch. But before she could utter any words, the boy simply forced a smile and turned on his heel and began to run.
"Thank you," Cosette breathed as the boy disappeared into the darkness.
