Valjean did not know whether to be relieved or livid about the current circumstances. Both, he decided. Relieved that these men were not after him, but livid that Monsieur Pontmercy had not let this die. For hours, he was interrogated by these men. Despite his heart-pounding in terror the entire time, he had gotten through it. Worse, though, was watching them talk to Cosette. He felt protective over her, angry at these men for being cold towards her. They were not cruel, but they frightened her. However, that was partially his fault- Cosette had been taught to fear the police. Still, as he watched her nervousness and shame be exploited in front of these strangers, he felt furious at Marius for throwing this upon her, without even being their to witness it. What on earth possessed him to do this?

Whatever it was, he would not go unpunished. Valjean doubted whether Cosette, who had been recovering so well, would make it through the night without being traumatized. She had to relive her entire experience, which had been harmful enough on its own. She was red and tearful from the shame of recounting the details in front of strangers. They did not press, but even vaguely describing what had been done to her was terrifying.

At last, when they left, Cosette ran upstairs into her room without a word to Valjean. He knew her well enough to know why, and it was not her shame about her attack. She was angry with Marius, and she was ashamed of that. But she also knew that no matter how angry she was, her father would be angrier, and she could not stand to listen to him insult Marius. So she'd run away, retiring to her room.

In the police station, after Marius had recounted the details, he'd begged the men not to go to Cosette and Jean Valjean. "Please, Messieurs," he'd asked the men. "You know as well as I that any evidence is long gone by now- her wounds have healed, the man has run. And all this would do is frighten her again."

Inspector Neveau gave Marius a stern glare. "What is more important than the evidence, at this point, is discovering whether or not your story is true."

Marius fell silent as the man took him back to the holding cell. He was already regretting telling the police about the incident. He knew how shamed Cosette would be. She would be crying, sobbing most likely. He cringed in shame and his insides twisted with guilt. This was his fault.

A few hours later, Marius was taken out of the holding cell again.

"His story is true. At least, both the girl and her father confirmed it. But he's right- there's nothing we can do now," the officer said.

"Alright. Bring his grandfather in," the Inspector said. Marius' heart leaped. Why else would they bring Grandfather in, if not to release him?

The door opened, and his tiny, tufty-haired grandfather burst into the room, not showing any of his ninety-two years.

"Break the rules!" he yelled. "I told you to break the rules, Marius! I meant go out with friends, see a racy show, enjoy your youth. I didn't mean to get arrested!" He reached Marius then, and smacked him hard on the arm.

"This boy, Messieurs," he said, regarding Marius as a boy despite the fact that he was not, in fact, a boy any longer. "Has always toed the line. Yes, he ran away from me all those years ago- the rogue!- but he returned. Prompted by a girl, of course, but who here hasn't been in love? Who here has never felt the charms of a woman? Certainly I have, those wonderful creatures! But you see, this boy never had a mistress, never gambled, never frequented those cafes where all the young men do is drink and fight each other. Why, you see, I used to view it as a wasted youth, but nevertheless, he has been straight-laced from the beginning. My fine men, you will find his record to be quite clean. He is not a violent boy! This was crime of passion- and well deserved passion at that! I've met his fine fiance- many times, I assure you, this whole thing is quite proper- and she is such a lovely lady that I would bet my life savings that any of you would go into a fight for her. And, Messieurs, I beseech you. His wedding is tomorrow. Please, my goods sirs, let him go-"

"That will do," Inspector Neveau cut off, giving both Grandfather and Marius an icy stare. Marius flushed. Why did his grandfather have to do that? "But, as I see it, there is no reason for you to stay. I will make a record of this, and if you return here, we will not be so lenient. You may see yourselves out."

Marius could not believe his ears, even as the door was opened and he was set free. Just like that! Meanwhile, Grandfather was talking his ear off. They went into the waiting carriage, and made their way back to the house on the rue des Filles-du-Calvaire. Marius went upstairs immediately, glad to see a servant had drawn a bath for him. Cleaning the grime of the street and the jail from his body, he dreaded to think about what would happen the following day.

At midnight he put on his nightshirt and collapsed onto the bed, unable to dread the coming day any longer. He was exhausted.

At eight, he woke. He thought of getting more sleep, but then he remembered what he had to do. He'd go straight to the Fauchelevents and explain everything- surely this could be fixed- the wedding was not until the late afternoon. If he was lucky, he could even spare customs and have a conversation with Monsieur Fauchelevent without even seeing Cosette.

He rose from his bed and dressed quickly. He was about to leave when a knock sounded on his door.

"Enter," he said, and Basque opened the door.

"Monsieur le Baron," he said respectfully. "You have a visitor waiting for you downstairs. Monsieur Fauchelevent."

Marius swallowed, feeling a lump rising in his throat, his chest constricting in trepidation. "Thank you," he said, and brushed past him.

Surely he can't be too angry, once I explain things,Marius thought, his heart pounding. He opened the door to the drawing room, and Monsieur Fauchelevent turned.

By the look on his face, Marius had a change of heart. Apparently yes, Monsieur Fauchelevent could be angry. Very, very angry.