A Night at the Opera: III

Eponine had been to the opera before, but had only stood unseen in the wings in order to watch.

"The view from up here is much better, I think," she mused as she leaned out to get a better look at the scene onstage. She caught a glimpse of Neville picking on Jacques in the other box, and of Gavroche and Feuilly trying to avert disaster on this end.

Closer by though, Eponine could hear Grantaire muttering the lines of the play in Greek, and Joly and Muschietta chatting behind her in low voices. Combeferre and Bossuet were having a sort of debate in the back.

She thought for a moment that Enjolras was watching the play intently, but Eponine knew the far-off look he had on his face. "What does he think of anyway?" she wondered.

"Stop it, Ponine! He won't want you staring at him!" she thought. Before she could collect another coherent thought, she heard the sound of applause. She also saw her friends clapping; it was the intermission.

"So soon already!" Eponine remarked, turning to the others in the box.

"I thought it would never end," Muschietta said, yawning. "I hope the second act only gets better,"

Enjolras stood up. "There are some people I might have to speak to,"

"Who?" Bossuet asked.

"Some men from the Courgarde who are here," Enjolras said. "Do you want to come along?"

Combeferre nodded to Bossuet and Joly. "May as well. Grantaire, what about you?"

Grantaire did not need to be asked; he was already out of his chair. "And you ladies?" he asked with a smile.

"Will stay here," Muschietta replied. As soon as the men were gone, she smiled at Eponine. "I saw you staring,"

"What a who?" Eponine asked.

"At Monsieur Enjolras, who else? Can't blame you...most of the grisettes where I live think he's quite handsome," Muschietta said lightly.

Eponine turned scarlet. "He thinks me ugly, perhaps,"

Muschietta shrugged. "You don't look half bad nowadays."

Eponine looked Muschietta over enviously, remembering that this woman looked healthier, and always dressed better than she did. Most women in Paris did anyway. "Don't see why he'd bother with me. He can have any girl he wants, if he just gave it a thought,"

"As you said before...you never know," Muschietta teased.

Eponine was about to say something nasty to Muschietta when she noticed someone enter the box. "Good evening, Monsieur Theodule," she said to the newcomer.

Theodule smiled at her and reached for her hand. "You look well, Eponine. It's a pity that I wasn't able to bring my cousin along...wanted to stay with his mademoiselle,"

"Oh!" Eponine muttered. She jerked her hand away from Theodule's. "Have you anything more to tell me?" she added in an annoyed tone.

"Tell you what?"

"Your letters from Vernon. I trust you had a good time?"

"As good as a time one can have in a regiment," Theodule said, reaching for her. "I'm here for three days. Perhaps we can---"

"Go away," Eponine said coldly, folding her arms.

"What on earth has happened to you, Eponine?" Theodule asked, bewildered at the girl's response. It was the first time in a few years that he'd been rebuffed to his face. "Did you not have a good time when I used to meet you?"

"You'd leave me,"

"I had things to do. You're a girl, you wouldn't understand,"

"I think you'd better get out while you can. Our companions are returning," Muschietta said calmly from nearby.

"Now who's this pretty lady?" Theodule asked, leering at Muschietta.

"Don't you start!" a new voice cried. Theodule had just enough time to look up before Bahorel cuffed him. Behind Bahorel stood Feuilly and Courfeyrac, both of them with stern looks on their faces.

"Do I know you?" Theodule asked the older man in an irritated tone.

"You should remember," Bahorel said. "Now go away,"

"Ah the student from the Musain," Theodule said. "I could knock you flat again,"

"That wasn't me," Bahorel snapped. "But I can give you two black eyes for the one you gave our friend,"

Theodule laughed and drew himself up to his full height. "Try me,"

"Trust us, you wouldn't want to," Courfeyrac chimed in.

"What is going on in here?" another voice said. Everyone turned to see Enjolras and Combeferre at the entrance to the box.

Theodule turned pale; he was capable of getting past three men, but not five. "Good evening, Monsieurs. Were you seated here?" he asked.

"Yes. Bahorel, you might want to let go of him," Enjolras said calmly.

Bahorel reluctantly released Theodule's coat. "He was bothering the ladies," he explained.

"What is wrong with having a good chat with a friend? You should know that, Monsieur Enjolras," Theodule said.

Eponine stood up. "You said you loved me, Theodule!" she blurted out.

"I did not say such a thing," Theodule retorted.

"Come now, we're in the opera, not in some back alley," Combeferre said, stepping in between Theodule and Eponine. "Monsieur Theodule, it would be better if you leave. I understand that your box is rather far off. The intermission is ending soon,"

Theodule glared at all of them. "Good evening then," he glowered, shoving past Enjolras and Courfeyrac on his way out.

Eponine covered her face with one hand. "Oh God..." she muttered.

"You saw everything, didn't you?" Muschietta asked Bahorel and Feuilly.

Feuilly nodded. "And heard it too,"

"Where are Patrice and Crispin?" Muschietta asked Combeferre.

"Somewhere down there," Combeferre replied, gesturing to the seats below. "They'll be back here soon,"

"We scared him off well, didn't we?" Bahorel asked his friends.

"I thought you were going to murder him. Not that we would have minded too much," Courfeyrac laughed. "Will you all be fine?"

Muschietta nodded. Courfeyrac tipped his hat to her before exiting after Feuilly and Bahorel.

Enjolras found his seat again in the front of the box. Eponine turned away from him. "You were right. Why do you always have to be right?" Eponine asked in a whisper.

"A little caution would be advisable," Enjolras said.

"What was that all about?" Combeferre asked.

"Came in here for a bit, but I didn't want to see him, not after what he said and did. Then he turned to Muschietta," Eponine explained quickly. "I guess that's the end of it then. I wanted to hit 'im. Really, I would have,"

Combeferre and Enjolras exchanged looks. "Better not tell Joly," Enjolras said.

Muschietta winced. "He won't come after that soldier. Patrice is too good for that," she said.

As if her words had called him up, Joly turned up, along with Bossuet and Grantaire. "Did we miss something?" the young medical student asked.

Muschietta smiled, oblivious to the despairing looks that Eponine, Enjolras, and Combeferre had on their faces.

"Nothing much, Patrice. Nothing much," she said.