Chapter 11: The Scorn of Apollo

It was a fine Sunday evening in the Cafe Musain, and the members of the ABC Society were in a heated discussion. They'd finally ended their usual political debates, and were now going over the plans for the revolution. Since that cold night when Enjolras had shown him the map of Paris, Marius had learned several key things about it; it would most likely be in the summer, that it would begin with a collective group of students and workers, and then hopefully ordinary Parisian citizens. The missing link was the revolution's catalyst; it needed a sign to rally the people and call upon them to fight.

'Otherwise, it's a suicide mission.' Marius thought wryly, and he sipped at his water.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the closed back door.

Enjolras frowned. "Who is it?" He called out.

"Is Monsieur Marius there?" A voice asked.

Marius sat up. He recognized that voice.

"So what if he is?" Enjolras replied.

"He made me a promise that I could come here tonight."

Marius nodded. "Come in, Éponine." He said. "The door is not locked."

The door swung open, and the gamine stepped inside. She didn't seem as dirty as she had when Marius last saw her, when he'd asked her to find Cosette. It was as though she'd managed to clean herself up before coming here. Her face had lost most of the grime, and her hair seemed darker and sleeker than before. As a result, she looked more lively than usual, and that was aided greatly by the relaxed smile that played on her lips.

Grantaire raised an eyebrow as she entered. "Your face looks familiar to me. Where have I seen it before, mademoiselle?"

Éponine muttered something that Marius couldn't make out.

"What did you say?" Grantaire asked.

"I said that if I was as drunk as you are, monsieur, I wouldn't be able to see anything save my bottle."

The café erupted into laughter, Grantaire among them. He raised his glass up high and shouted to Marius:

"A fine specimen you've brought here tonight, Pontmercy! A nymph disguised as Persephone! I almost wish I could remember her!"

"I don't." Retorted Éponine, which induced another fit of chuckling from the students. "I've never met you before in my life, monsieur, and I'm feeling rather grateful for it."

Marius called for silence. "Mes amis, this is Mademoiselle Éponine Jondrette. She asked me to allow her to the café to attend one of our meetings, and I agreed."

Bahorel scoffed. "A girl, playing at politics? I've never heard of such a thing!"

"You just have." Éponine replied. "I'm not entirely stupid, monsieur. I've had a better education than most of the children on the streets, if not a better upbringing. I can read and write just as well as any of you gentlemen here."

Courfeyrac nodded approval. "Admirable skills, Mlle Jondrette." He said. "But can you put them to use?" He picked a small red book up off of the table and tossed it to her. "Do you know what that is?"

Éponine stared at the cover, mystified. She shook her head. "No, I don't."

"That is The Social Contract, by Jean-Jacques Rousseau." Said Courfeyrac sternly. "And if you cannot read that, then I doubt you belong here, or that you can read at all."

"I can read!" Éponine protested. To prove it, she opened the book to the first page and recited: "Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains. One thinks himself the master of others, and still remains a greater slave than they. How did this change come about? I do not know. What can make it legitimate? That question I think I can answer."

The room went quiet. Grantaire peered over and examined the book. "Word for word." He announced.

"But do you know what it means?" Combeferre insisted. "You've proved that you are a parrot. Now prove you are a philosopher as well."

Éponine smiled. "You will have to teach me some things, monsieur."

Combeferre laughed. "Very true. Nobody can know everything without tutoring. I am Combeferre, by the way. The drunkard is Grantaire, your lover of Rousseau is Courfeyrac, and our leader is Enjolras; that stern, blonde fellow in the red coat. Would you care to sit down?"

Éponine went over and took her seat next to Combeferre at the largest table. In a few minutes, several other members of Les Amis had joined, hovering close to Éponine like dogs around a new member of the pack. Marius would have liked to join them, but Enjolras stopped him. "Marius. Could I speak to you for a moment?"He asked.

Marius nodded, and Enjolras pulled him aside. Once they were out of earshot from the other students, his stony face grew even grimmer than usual. "What on earth do you think you are doing?" He hissed.

Marius blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Tell me, Marius; do you ever see Musichetta come here for Joly or Bossuet? Or one of Grantaire's grisettes running back to smack him? Mon Dieu, even Courfeyrac has the good sense to keep his latest girl away!"

"Enjolras, what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you. More specifically, I am asking why you have decided to parade around your mistress tonight, when we could be discussing our revolution!"

"She is not my mistress!" Marius said hotly. "She's just a friend, I swear. And you ought to thank her, not rant against her. She's the gamine I met that influenced me to come back here."

Enjolras grew solemn again. "Well, I'll thank her for that." He conceded. "But even so; why is she here?"

"She asked to come to one of our meetings."

"But why did she ask in the first place?"

"I owed her a favor, and said that if there was anything she wanted that I could grant, it was her's. This is her request."

"And what was the favor?"

"That's none of your business."

Enjolras complied him, and changed the subject. "If she proves herself an able mind, then she is welcome to come again. In time, we perhaps can trust her with some of our secrets. It could be a very useful thing to have a gamine as an ally. But Marius; I don't want her to have too many illusions about what we do here. This is not a game for poor young girls to play."

Marius nodded. He turned to face the table where Éponine and the students were talking and laughing. "Don't worry, Enjolras. She may not look it, but she is a very wise person."