A/N: And so the trouble piles up!
Ceara: That insult is too kind to Thenardier, really.
Just a Guest: Yes it's Marius, among other benefactors. As for the barricades: some will fall and some will live...and everyone is out to take their chances
Chapter 28: Preludes
Although Fantine already had a rough sort of sketch in her mind as to the state of Mabeuf's misfortunes, she was still astonished at the destitution that greeted her and Jean Valjean when they visited their friend at the neighbourhood of Austerlitz. "How could you bear to do this?" she asked when she saw Mabeuf's bookcase almost completely devoid of the rare tomes and volumes that had once brought so much pride to their owner, save for one last copy of Diogenes.
"Mother Plutarque and I need to buy dinner," Mabeuf replied with a smile that was both bitter and resigned. He shook his head as he contemplated his bookcase. "She is ill today though, and I have not decided if I should dine at all."
"My friend, if there is anything-" Jean Valjean began.
The former churchwarden shook his head. "You have troubles of your own, Monsieur Fabre," he said gravely. "Let others worry about me."
"What will you do then after this?" Fantine asked, not daring to look back at the almost empty bookshelf. Aside from this piece, there was hardly any furniture left in Mabeuf's cottage; in fact the hovel was plunged into shadow since Mabeuf no longer bought candles.
Mabeuf did not answer but only looked out the window and then back at his bookshelf. "Two hundred francs. That should be a mercy," he mumbled at last before he seized the last volume and tucked it under his arm. "Should I go to the sellers on the Rue de Gres or on the Place du Sorbonne?"
'To none of them!' Fantine might have said but she bit her tongue lest Mabeuf catch an untoward word. She wrung her hands as she looked to Jean Valjean. "It can only last him so far! What shall we do?"
"I will try to speak with him," Jean Valjean said quickly in an undertone. "You have to go home ahead of me. There may be trouble on the streets today; it's Lamarque's funeral tomorrow."
"At least the funeral procession will not be passing too near our neighbourhood," Fantine said. From what she knew the cortege would stop by the Place Vendome and go by the way of the Rue Saint Honore in the general direction of the Hotel de Ville. 'All of those places will be under watch even as early as today,' she realized. She swallowed hard as she touched Jean Valjean's elbow. "You need to hurry too."
Jean Valjean opened his mouth to speak but he suddenly turned towards where there were footsteps coming from the cottage's front yard. "The police!" he mouthed, suddenly turning deathly pale.
Fantine felt as if her feet were suddenly rooted to the spot even as Mabeuf walked past her to open the door. "Good morning Monsieur Inspecteur. Is there some sort of trouble?" Mabeuf asked worriedly.
"I need to speak with Madame Fantine Fabre, immediately. I heard she was visiting here," Perrot's cold voice replied.
Fantine stood on tiptoe to catch a surreptitious look of the doorway; to her relief Perrot was alone and on foot. "I'll lead him away from here, then you can go," she said in a whisper to Jean Valjean before she stepped away towards the door. She took care to sweep her long hair back from her face and put on her hat for good measure. "This is a surprise, Monsieur," she said calmly as she met him in the doorway.
"I have no time to be social," Perrot said gruffly. He nodded to Mabeuf. "You have nothing to fear," he said before drawing Fantine away from the door. Once they were some distance from the hovel he gripped her arm more tightly. "You have been hiding things, Madame," he spat.
"What sort of things? I already told you everything I know!" Fantine said plaintively.
"Not the conman Nicolas Thenardier. You spoke with him recently, within this week, I hear," Perrot sneered. You did not inform the Prefecture that he was in league with those troublemaker students."
"What do you mean?"
"He has been receiving assistance from a certain Marius Pontmercy, who I heard is a lawyer, a graduate of the Sorbonne, and an intimate of Monsieur de Courfeyrac of the Rue de la Verrerie."
Fantine cringed as she now recalled Marius' other connections besides the Thenardiers and Cosette. "They go a long way back-him and Monsieur Pontmercy, I mean," she finally stammered out. "I'm sure that Monsieur Thenardier wouldn't have anything to do with those boys-"
"And what of his daughters?" Perrot barked. "Both girls are still out of sight. Where have you been hiding them?"
Fantine shook her head. "I thought they were staying with Monsieur Enjolras or-"
"They're not with him!" Perrot barked. He was now livid in the face as he looked at her. "I don't see why I do not put you in prison too for complicity right this moment!"
Fantine fell to her knees and kissed his hands. "No, please." She almost felt sick at the words that rose to her lips, as they had time and again. "Tell me what I have to do."
Perrot's eyes narrowed. "You will do it? I have no use for cowards, Madame, especially in these times."
Fantine nodded. "Anything."
The inspector yanked her to her feet. "Tomorrow is the funeral of General Lamarque. There are some lawless elements that will certainly sow unrest on this day. I need to know their rendezvous points and where they have cached their weapons."
"There are so many of them," Fantine whispered.
Perrot shrugged this off. "Your children have to help you. That is the only way I can ensure their safety."
"How can you do that?" Fantine asked. "You have to be at the funeral tomorrow."
"I can bring you away from suspicion and see to it that the insurgents will not come to your home," Perrot answered curtly. "Unless of course..."
"They are not welcome at my home, ever," Fantine cut in. 'I only let them stay because they were helping Lisette,' she thought as she averted her eyes; as far as she knew Perrot had no inkling of what had transpired at the Rue de'lHomme Arme, but she knew better than to be certain about what the police were aware of nowadays.
"Is your father still enlisted with the National Guard?"
"He is."
"Then he knows where he has to be," Perrot said smugly. "Never have I needed your assistance more, Madame Fabre."
"Thank you for understanding, Monsieur Perrot," Fantine managed to say.
"You have till midnight to tell me. Do not delay," Perrot said before kissing her hand. "Send me a note; I shall surely find it."
"Yes Monsieur," Fantine said as she demurely set her hand on a nearby fencepost, ready to clutch it should her knees give out. She watched with bated breath as Perrot walked to the street corner, and only then she turned to rejoin Jean Valjean and Mabeuf in the hovel.
In the cottage she found Mabeuf in tears as he held his face in his hands. Jean Valjean was quietly sitting by him, perhaps waiting for him to speak or simply for the moment to pass. Fantine nodded to Jean Valjean, who simply signed for her to leave. 'If no one can bring him around then who can?' Fantine wondered despondently as she quietly shut the door behind her and headed back out to the street.
She took a few deep breaths as she struggled to get her thoughts together. Where would she go to get answers about the next day? Was there even a plan to chase after or was the Prefecture jabbing at shadows? 'It's about time I started asking my own questions,' Fantine decided as she headed to the Rue de la Verrerie.
When she arrived, she found the concierge was away at the market, but the door was open and there were voices upstairs. She took the opportunity to tiptoe almost to the top of the stairs, where she could hear the conversation more clearly.
"There are only a few more things to make sure of before tomorrow morning," Enjolras was heard to say from inside one of the apartments. "Are the stores of weapons all in place?"
"At Notre Dame and along the procession route," Feuilly replied. "As well as some personal supplies."
"Notre Dame still needs to be secured though; Bossuet spoke with the section there yesterday but I will make a last check to be sure," Courfeyrac replied. "Don't we have another store at Picpus?"
"Already well handled but we may have to move it to be in better proximity to events. The Society of the Friends of the People has suggested this," Combeferre said. "The medical students have a leave tomorrow, so there will be a good many attending the funeral."
"Good. What about the men at the Glaciere?" Enjolras asked.
"They have had some...internal troubles," Feuilly replied. "So have Jeanne and his neighbours."
"The Saint-Merry group does not desire for us to interfere in their affairs," Enjolras said. "Nevertheless their chiefs have still promised a good attendance at the procession. The signal will come from them."
"What about our own numbers?" Prouvaire chimed in.
"We have promised full attendance as well; there is no need to fear calling a roll," Enjolras replied wryly.
"What about Eponine and Azelma?" Prouvaire asked. "Where-"
"They'll be far away from the fighting. I've arranged for that," Enjolras said more seriously. "Courfeyrac, how are matters with Pontmercy?"
"I will meet with him later. He has to settle a number of personal affairs," Courfeyrac said.
'Nothing to do with Cosette, I should hope!' Fantine thought as she stepped away from the door before she should be discovered. As far as she was concerned she already had heard enough to make a good report to Perrot. She hurried down the stairs and back out into the street, just in time to avoid being seen by Marius, who was just about to enter the house. The sight of him had Fantine shaking her head even as she made her way to the station house near the Pont Au Change to make a quick note to Perrot. She gritted her teeth as she wrote, for her already clumsy handwriting was now nearly illegible. 'Let it be enough though,' she begged silently as she gave the note to a constable and then made her way back to the Rue de'lHomme Arme.
As she was walking towards her home she caught sight of two men hurrying away from her house. Instead of meeting and greeting them she stepped into the shadow of a nearby carriage gate. She had to grit her teeth when she saw that these visitors were none other than Marius and Bahorel. 'Those boys shouldn't be here,' she thought as she hastened towards her dwelling. Through the window she saw Cosette in the front room, apparently furtively sewing some linen. Fantine let herself into the house as quietly as she could. "Who are those bandages for, Cosette?" she asked.
Cosette quickly put down the linen she'd been stitching. She was pale and her eyes were red-rimmed, but otherwise she seemed perfectly calm and composed. "They're for a friend, Maman," she said.
"A friend meaning Marius?" Fantine asked. "Cosette, we've already had this discussion."
"He and his friends need help, Maman!" Cosette argued. "Tomorrow-"
"Is Lamarque's funeral. I know their plans already, Cosette," Fantine said. "They do not bode well."
Cosette's eyes widened. "Maman, how did you find out? Did you-"
Fantine sighed deeply, already dreading the words on her lips. "Inspector Perrot asked. It's the only way I can keep you and Victor safe from the fighting." She felt her heart sink when she saw Cosette look away with an expression of anguish on her face. "Cosette-"
"I have to warn them," Cosette whispered.
"Cosette, no!" Fantine said, moving to grab her daughter's arm. "If you do that, Inspector Perrot will know you are working with those boys."
"If I don't do this, my friends will die," Cosette countered. "Maman, how could you do it, after all that they did for the Thenardiers, and even after all the years we've been friends with Bahorel? I know you don't like fighting or politics but if you could just listen to what they want to do, you'll see why they believe so much."
"All I want is for you and Victor to be safe," Fantine retorted. She almost shuddered as she envisioned the streets running red, Victor holding a musket far too large for him, and Cosette hiding in a corner as the fighting raged all around her. "You have to stay here in this house, promise me-" she began but Cosette had already quit the room and slammed their bedroom door behind her.
Fantine sighed and collapsed in a chair, and then looked up to see Victor standing silently in the doorway of the living room. It was clear from the boy's troubled expression that he heard the entire debacle. "Victor, please don't go."
Victor shrugged. "They had news of Eponine and Azelma."
"Where are they?"
"Not in Paris, that is all I can say."
Fantine gritted her teeth at this evasion but before she could prod him more, Victor had already excused himself from the room as well. 'Must I bring them away from Paris as well to get them to stay out of danger?' she wondered despondently.
By the time Jean Valjean arrived home, Fantine had already made up her mind. "We have to leave this city, by tomorrow if we can," she told him by way of greeting.
Jean Valjean's already perturbed countenance darkened. "Is the fighting going to be that bad?"
"It could be," Fantine replied, looking away as the frightful vision rose before her eyes again. "It need not be forever, maybe just for a little while."
"We cannot simply leave the city then; there will be uprisings in other parts."
"So, to England now?"
Jean Valjean nodded. "As you said, only for a little while."
"That should be enough," Fantine said. "When will we go?"
"Tomorrow we leave at first light," Jean Valjean replied. "We must bring as little as possible."
Fantine nodded understandingly. "How will we tell the children?"
"I will do it," Jean Valjean offered. "It would not do to have you so upset again, Fantine."
Fantine breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you Jean." She saw Jean Valjean's eyes go wide at this and she clapped a hand over her mouth, realizing now her slight. "I'll set about to packing our things, Monsieur," she added more furtively before racing in the kitchen, unwilling now to hear the next confrontation.
Dinner that night was a silent affair. Cosette excused herself quickly, claiming to have a headache, while Victor was sullen. 'They won't forgive me just yet by tomorrow,' Fantine realized as she began packing up some of their cutlery, household linen and a few other necessities. Already she was dreading the upcoming journey; how would they bear to make it when news of events would surely overtake them? Then there was still the possibility of running into Perrot, Javert, or any of their other colleagues on the journey. Fantine was not sure if she could think up a good alibi this time to save them all.
It was past ten in the evening by the time Fantine decided to retire to bed. As she undressed, she noticed Cosette already lying in bed, but quietly looking up at the ceiling. "Maman, do we have to go?" the girl asked.
"It's no longer safe for us, Cosette," Fantine reasoned. 'And perhaps no place will ever really be,' she thought as she lay down. "Sleep now. We have a long journey tomorrow, my dear."
Cosette sighed deeply. "Goodnight Maman."
"Goodnight Cosette," Fantine whispered before shutting her eyes. It felt as if hours had passed before sleep finally overtook her, but before she knew it she caught slivers of light piercing her vision. 'Is it morning already?' she wondered as she opened her eyes.
She saw now that the candle was out, the room was bathed in the pale half-light of morning, and that somehow she was utterly alone. "Cosette?" she asked as she sat up and looked around. She saw that Cosette's bed was neat and well-made, looking almost as if it had not been slept in at all. "Cosette! Where are you?" she shouted as she got to her feet. She looked through the apartment but realized that not only was Cosette gone, but even Victor and Jean Valjean as well. 'But everyone's things are still here, so where could they be?' she wondered frantically.
Her heart was pounding in her chest as she threw on a shawl and raced out in the street, hoping against all hope to find any sign of her family. She let out a sob when she saw Jean Valjean walking hurriedly up from the street corner. "I can't find Cosette or Victor!"
Jean Valjean's face was stricken. "Did you hear either of them leave?"
"Not a sign. Where could they be?" Fantine wailed as she sank down to the ground. She did not dare mouth the one answer that sprung in her mind; how could she ever imagine her children heading into the tumult. "We have to go after them."
"Where would we begin?" Jean Valjean asked as he sat beside her.
Fantine looked at her hands and then up at the sky. "Wherever the police are. They'd know. They'll be following." She sighed as she squeezed Jean Valjean's wrist. "You'll have to put on your National Guardsman's uniform, and I'll have to look nice. It's the only way now we can get through." s
