Chapter 37: Fomenting Under One Roof
'If the church doors had remained closed, the entire square would have turned into a sort of charnel-house,' Enjolras couldn't help thinking as he and Eponine were in a fiacre headed back to their lodgings. It was already past noon, and most of their friends had gone home as well, except for Combeferre and Joly, who went to assist some of their colleagues at nearby hospitals. Gavroche had begged to be allowed to stay with Navet and Bahorel for the rest of the day in order to 'find out something useful'.
Enjolras gritted his teeth as the fiacre lurched, sending a most unwelcome jolt into his left leg, which he'd tried to keep stretched out to relieve his sprained ankle. He heard a whimper from next to him, and he looked to see Eponine twisting about in the seat, clearly unable to get comfortable. "You could lie down on the other seat," he suggested.
She shook her head at the same time she held on to his arm to keep from falling over. "I'd get colder there." She nestled closer to him, as if she was seeking some warmth. "You saw it all. You probably even saw me running after Gavroche," she said after a while.
"I didn't. Nevertheless it was a good thing you went," he remarked, remembering those chilling seconds after that first shot at the back of the square. He had looked to the crowd, already expecting some uproar, but only just in time to see two cylinders with lit fuses suddenly land on the platform. It all happened so fast: hearing Rossi's shout, then managing to push Blanchard off the platform, before finally leaping off just a split second before the first grenade exploded. Just remembering it was enough to elicit pain again in his injured ankle. 'The blast was near the left of the stage. Everyone was running. She wasn't there,' he thought, feeling suddenly as if something cold had settled all around him. He took a deep breath, thankful once again that when he'd looked he had not seen a red form crumpled on the ground or being dragged off. However he'd spotted a man pushing his way through the crowd, nearly bowling over an elderly gentleman and a child. 'I must have followed him halfway to the Place Dauphine before running into his accomplices,' he realized.
Eponine bit her lip as she kicked aside two garments that had been strewn onto the floor. "We're never wearing these again," she said ruefully, ending this with a short laugh. "I never told you that you look good in red, better than most of us do. Well, good in red on most days, I am not so sure about now."
He swallowed hard as he looked at her, remembering the moment when he finally saw her lying on the church floor, looking as if she was on the verge of screaming. The next few weeks would be hard enough, owing to those injuries alone. "I'd rather not see you in danger again, Eponine. After this..." he trailed off, noticing the quizzical look she was giving him. He clasped her hand lightly. "If you no longer wish to help in the campaign, I will not hold it against you."
She sat up straight, wincing only for a moment. "I promised that I'd help you and you said I could do it for five weeks. We've finished only three so far."
He shook his head as he steadied her with a hand on her right shoulder. "You need to recover."
"You too! See, your right hand still hurts. You write with that hand, I know it. Now what will you do till it heals up?" She looked him in the face, her eyes wide but with a look of resolve that he'd become very familiar with. "Now you will need someone who can write and also someone to go about to places, because of that foot of yours. You know you can ask me."
"I know what you can do, and I've seen you do it well. However this campaign is becoming more unsafe and you shouldn't take any unnecessary risks."
"And what about you, Antoine?" She colored slightly, as if surprised at her own use of his given name. "No, never mind that. I still want to help; you said if after all, and that means you think only it is a 'perhaps' and not something that is sure to happen. I will tell you that it won't be that way. Do you think that a few notes and this little shaking today could scare a girl like me?"
Enjolras gritted his teeth, knowing that they had already reached an impasse. 'It's far too late now for either of us,' he realized after a while. Now, he could only hope that they and their friends would all still be alive and well after the elections. Neither of them said anything more till they arrived at the Rue Jean Jacques Rousseau.
As the fiacre rolled to a stop, Eponine shook her head she gingerly made her way to the door. "Combeferre will yell at both of us if I let you fall," she said as she reached for his left arm to help him.
"He would yell at both of us if we even thought of walking about," Enjolras pointed out with a smirk, picking up their torn and stained coats. He felt a little heartened on seeing her laugh more mirthfully at this, even as she scooted over to his left side in order to help him into the house. They did not even have to knock before the tenement door opened to reveal Cosette.
"What are you doing here?" Eponine asked her with surprise.
"We came as soon as we heard the news of the attack," Cosette said, looking to where Marius was hurrying to join them.
Marius paled visibly at the sight of his friends. "God in heaven...what happened to the two of you?" he said as he went to help Enjolras to a seat. "We were worried that you'd gotten shot."
"To be more exact, hand to hand combat gone awry," Enjolras explained. He shook his head when he saw Cosette try to hug Eponine, only to have the other girl nearly yell with pain. "So far there have been fifteen confirmed dead: two immediately in the blast and the rest either because of bullets or while trying to get to safety," he informed Marius.
The younger man was aghast. "To think that Cosette wanted to attend!" he whispered. He looked to where Cosette was now helping Eponine up the stairs. "I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to her," he murmured.
At that moment Citizenness LeClair emerged from her room, with the two younger Thenardier boys trailing behind; Jacques was clinging to her skirt while Neville was leaning on a crutch. "Finally, you're back. I almost thought I'd hear horrible news of the three of you!" she scolded Enjolras. "You and Combeferre that is one thing, but you should be ashamed for bringing Eponine with you!"
"Citizenness, there is just no dissuading her when she has her mind made up," Enjolras pointed out.
The concierge rolled her eyes and picked up the stained coats that the unfortunate duo had somehow managed to bring in. "No laundrywoman is going to be able to save these. You ought to be more careful," she fussed as she brought the clothes into the kitchen. "All this campaigning, only to get half-killed in the process!"
Enjolras looked to see Jacques and Neville laughing at this. "Careful there you two. I can't pick you up," he warned the two children before they could climb up onto his lap.
Neville frowned as he looked at Enjolras' bandaged ankle. "Will Combeferre let you keep your foot?"
"He will. I hurt it in a different way," Enjolras said, unnerved at the boy's uncanny question.
"Where are Combeferre and Gavroche?" Neville pressed on.
"They're busy; Combeferre is at work, Gavroche is with his friend Navet. You'll see them later."
Neville nodded solemnly before hobbling back to the concierge's lodge. Meanwhile little Jacques managed to climb on Enjolras' lap. "Will we get hurt too?" he asked worriedly.
"No, not you and Neville. You'll both be safe," Enjolras replied, awkwardly ruffling Jacques' hair.
Jacques looked down. "But what about you and Ponine?"
Enjolras sighed, knowing now that Jacques had probably gathered that his sister was also injured. "We have to sometimes deal with people who are angry," he said. "They won't come after you. I promise that." Perhaps the fact that Neville and Jacques were to be kept safe at all costs was the one thing that he and Eponine easily agreed on.
Jacques nodded slowly before looking at Marius. "You have to help him."
"That's why I'm here," Marius said bemusedly as he lifted Jacques and set him down on the floor. "Enjolras you'd better take it slow..."
Enjolras in the meantime had managed to get to his feet. "It's only one flight. I'll manage it," he said.
"Don't even think about it, Enjolras," Courfeyrac called from the doorway. With him were Paulette, Bossuet, and Rossi. "Combeferre gave explicit instructions that you are not to walk about without some sort of support."
"Joly has an extra cane, aside from the one I have here," Bossuet offered.
"You need it more than I do, so thank you all the same," Enjolras said.
Courfeyrac snorted but he went to help Enjolras up the stairs. The rest of the group followed, with Paulette excusing herself to join Eponine and Cosette at the Thenardiers' apartment while the men went to Enjolras' room.
"You're a wonderful chap, Pontmercy. You do not revel with us, but you always emerge to help in times of trouble," Courfeyrac said to Marius once they were all settled as best as they could. Bossuet had to prop up his injured leg with a textbook, while the rest of the group leaned against the walls or some piece of furniture.
Marius turned red. "I wanted to see how I could help. But what are you all doing here?"
"Citizen Bahorel's idea," Rossi said confusedly. He had a long gash now running from his right ear to his jaw. "What's this, some sort of council?"
"More of a preliminary inquiry about the incident," Enjolras explained. "Though we may as well start discussing what measures might have to be taken for the remainder of the campaign."
"Especially with Citizen Dufour dead and most of us incapacitated," Rossi said. "Most of the wounded being from the Democrates party. Poor Bamatabois will have a hard time of it."
"Speaking of the devil, aren't you?" an indignant voice came from the hall. All of the men turned to see Jerome Bamatabois there, dressed entirely in black. His face was pale and his eyes were red.
"Not at all. But our condolences though," Enjolras said, motioning for him to take a seat.
"It won't bring back the dead or undo this," Bamatabois muttered.
Enjolras nodded, noticing that his colleague reeked of brandy. "Where have you been prior to this?"
"The morgue and some cafe, but that is none of your business," Bamatabois snapped. "Isn't Citizen Bahorel here already? I'd like to get started."
"He should be here before three at the latest," Enjolras said. He had yet to hear any church bells tolling two o'clock. 'Hopefully this inquiry will not take very long,' he thought, hearing several rapid bursts of Occitan from the general direction of the stairwell. In a few moments Feuilly and Leonor made their appearance, followed some minutes after by Prouvaire and Azelma.
"Courfeyrac, you owe me five more francs," Prouvaire said after the usual pleasantries.
"Give it another week, you will be giving Feuilly fifty francs," Courfeyrac retorted, but he cheerfully handed over the required amount.
Paulette rolled her eyes. "How many more weeks will you keep betting, Maurice?"
"A month more. It is for a trifling sum."
Enjolras looked at his friends questioningly. "Another wager?" he asked. He'd witnessed these sorts of scenarios several times over the years, including one particularly memorable incident that resulted in his having to give a coat to Bossuet, who'd gambled away the clothes on his back.
"You'll like this one. Grantaire has not been in his absinthe," Azelma reported smugly.
"Ever since the campaign started. He's been doing admirably well," Feuilly said with a shrug.
Leonor swatted his shoulder. "Of all things to make a wager on!"
"Ah but the duration is not as important as the reason," Bossuet pointed out. "Unfortunately it's probably nothing to do with politics, or any notions of emulating virtue."
"Some woman," Rossi muttered, not hiding his smile of amusement.
Bamatabois looked at all of them incredulously. "How can you talk of a skirt at a time like this?"
"My friend, you must remember that a lady is the very thing that keeps all men marching in such a crisis," Courfeyrac said with a grin. "And can end it, unfortunately."
"Such as in the case of Charlotte Corday versus Marat," Bamatabois said. "If we're talking about diversions, perhaps you could kindly direct me to something strong to wet my throat with?"
"Unfortunately this is an austere house," Enjolras replied sternly. "The business we have on hand requires sobriety. Yes, we may wish for some sort of nepenthe, but we do dishonour to the memory and struggles of our fellow citizens when we tip into excess."
Courfeyrac whistled to someone in the doorway. "Capital R!"
Grantaire trudged in before leaning against the doorjamb. "Far too small for this to be Aulis."
"No allusions now," Enjolras warned. Yet now that he got a better look at the newcomer he had to concede that perhaps Grantaire was truly sober; there was less of the slovenly manner he'd come to expect over the years.
Marius uneasily looked around at the now rather cramped apartment. "Perhaps Cosette and I should take our leave if you will be beginning soon."
"You may as well stay, Pontmercy. This may concern you both as well," Bahorel said from where he'd just arrived in the hall. With him now were Combeferre, Claudine, Joly, Musichetta, as well as Gavroche and Navet. He peered into the room as if to ascertain who was there before going to knock on the Thenardiers' apartment. In a few minutes most of the group was crammed in Enjolras' apartment as well as in the hallway, sharing some bread that the newcomers had brought.
Bahorel had to stand in the doorway to make sure he was heard by everyone. "Since introductions are mostly superfluous, it is time to create a bird's eye view of the situation," he said. "I have been tasked with collecting some written statements from those of us who are willing and able to testify as to what we heard and saw out at Notre Dame."
"How do we know we can trust the Department of Surveillance?" Bamatabois asked suspiciously.
"Do you have any other option?" Rossi asked impatiently. "Or would you like to take on the investigation yourself too?"
"Whatever it will take to avenge Dufour and the others who've died."
"Bamatabois, you aren't the only one who has lost someone," Leonor cut in.
"I saw a good man die," Bamatabois said coldly. "I imagine you'd have at least some sympathy for that."
"Now is not the time for this," Enjolras warned them. "Bahorel, how soon should we make our statements?" he asked.
"As soon as possible; if some of us are ready, I can start taking them down, one by one," Bahorel replied.
"Do we have to tell everything?" Eponine asked after a few moments.
"Of course. Why?" Bahorel asked.
Eponine bit her lip. "I s'pose it is important that I saw Babet and he told me that I ought to leave."
Azelma's eyes widened while some of the young men shook their heads, or even in Courfeyrac's case, groaned outright. 'Now that might change everything,' Enjolras thought but he made sure not to meet Eponine's eyes at that moment, knowing that he was better off asking her about this later.
"Was he alone?" Bahorel asked Eponine.
"I didn't see any of the others," Eponine said.
"Why didn't you mention that earlier?" Leonor asked her. "If there are known criminals involved-"
"Citizenness Torres, I don't think we need to make any more enemies here," Cosette cut in, giving her an unusually furious look. "Marius and I weren't at the assembly. Is there any way we can possibly be of assistance?" she asked Bahorel.
"We may need some legal advice," Bahorel said. "From an attorney who has had some distance from these present proceedings."
Marius swallowed hard. "I may also ask some other colleagues to assist."
Rossi crossed his arms. "I think intervention might be necessary from other quarters. I heard talk that you have a relative who is a lieutenant with the regiment at the Rue de Babylone?"
"We will have to formally contact the commanding officer of that detachment; unless that is already Citizen Gillenormand?" Bahorel said.
Marius sighed. "I will ask my aunt, who probably has already asked him."
"My sister could—" Azelma began before Eponine elbowed her. "Why not? He wrote to you!"
"It's not that simple, Azelma," Eponine hissed, scowling when her sister elbowed her back.
Bamatabois looked at Bahorel. "Did they figure out which party was responsible?"
Bahorel raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?
"Are you suggesting..." Rossi muttered threateningly.
"Nothing of that sort, Rossi. The more likely idea is that none of the three parties are responsible," Bahorel replied.
Marius looked at him quizzically. "Why would you say that?"
"That is because it is in no one's particular interests to disrupt the elections with deaths of specific people unless it is to disable the entire process as a whole. That would undermine everything we've done so far," Enjolras noted.
Rossi groaned. "Orleanists! Real ones mind you."
"At this point everyone is under suspicion but everyone is still guiltless," Courfeyrac reminded him.
Bamatabois shook his head. "I must leave soon to meet Dufour's family."
"Since you seem to be in a hurry, Bamatabois, we can take your statement first," Bahorel suggested.
Claudine sighed as she moved out of the way to let Bamatabois go to the doorway. "The sooner we finish this, the sooner we can return to the campaign," she remarked as she knotted a torn bonnet string.
Combeferre stared at her. "Claudine, is that all you can think of? The perpetrators of this crime are still at large and they will strike again, mark my words."
"Making us fall silent is what they want. They want us to flee like the children they think we are!"
"Yes but that does not mean we have to take unnecessary risks."
"So you've been telling me for the past few weeks, Francois. I wouldn't mind so much, if you didn't consider every single risk to me as unnecessary," Claudine said, putting her hands akimbo. "Ever since this campaign started, you've always said that I do not need to be there, that I'm safer simply writing. Am I supposed to be thankful that you at least grant me that?"
"You already do enough with publishing. That is already noble work in itself," Combeferre retorted.
"What then? Am I getting too far from my place, becoming like one of those women who ought to be guillotined?" Claudine seethed, getting to her feet.
"Not at all!"
"Well, you think I'm becoming 'unnatural', like they are saying in the streets?"
"Claudine, it is not that way."
"Well then tell me why you are suddenly acting like you do not care about what I feel, about what I can and should be doing?" Claudine demanded. "I'm not made of glass, Francois, and I don't see why you feel the need discourage me when Eponine is ten years my junior and she receives no discouragement at all from Enjolras!"
Enjolras nearly started on hearing his name. "Is this what you two have been fighting about for these past weeks?" he asked tersely.
"Something like it," Claudine muttered. "Especially since all he cares about is what he thinks-"
"I do this only because I care for you, Claudine!" Combeferre said, gripping the wall. "What I do not want is your becoming a target."
Courfeyrac coughed. "Maybe you two can discuss this later?"
"Keep out of this Courfeyrac!" Combeferre snapped.
Eponine rolled her eyes. "Well I don't think it's any of your business either what I do, whether Enjolras encourages it or not."
Combeferre looked at her for a moment. "It is when someone gets hurt."
"The trouble is that you think you know trouble and can prevent every single instance of it!" Claudine said indignantly.
"For an hour today I was almost certain that I would see one of you in the morgue!" Combeferre said furiously as he stood up. "Just because I know what may happen that does not make me immune from worry. Even if I am a physician there is only so much I can do especially with such stubborn friends-"
"Combeferre-" Enjolras said, managing to get to his feet.
"Will you please sit down!" Combeferre roared. "This has to be around the seventh time in six hours I've told you to keep still! You and Eponine would have walked home if I hadn't personally seen you both off, and the least the two of you could do is at least cooperate with your own recovery-and no Grantaire I'm not bundling them into the same bed just to make sure they keep still, that is out of the question!" He took a few deep breaths as he looked directly at Enjolras and then at Eponine. "If you cannot respect me as a physician, then at least please heed me as a friend."
Enjolras nodded, seeing now the exhausted, almost wretched countenance of his friend. 'As if he's been bearing it too long,' he realized as he watched Combeferre sit down and hold his head in his hands.
Claudine went up to Combeferre and put her hands on his shoulders. "Francois?" she whispered.
He looked up at her with a somber expression. "I'm sorry if you misinterpreted what I intended to be an act of caring," Combeferre admitted. He got to his feet and looked remorsefully at the entire group. "I've said too much this afternoon. My apologies."
Claudine's expression was stricken as she watched Combeferre leave the room. "I'm sorry..."
"Go after him," Musichetta said with a nod. "It's your only chance."
Claudine took a deep breath and ran her hands through her hair before hurrying out of the room and up the stairs to Combeferre's lodgings. For a moment an uncomfortable silence permeated the room till Azelma kicked her heels against the wall in an attitude of restlessness. "Well he's nasty-"
Prouvaire shook his head. "Azelma, we can't blame him. No one is to blame; we know what we're doing but he can't help looking out for all of us. He always has."
Joly rubbed his cane. "He's tired. He should rest; maybe take the entire tomorrow to stay at home for once. Maybe we all should."
"I think for the most of us, there is no other choice," Bossuet added. "But will you still be noting down any statements today?" he asked Bahorel.
"Yes, but I could go get yours tomorrow instead, Bossuet," Bahorel said grimly. "Eponine, may we please borrow your room for a little while?"
The young woman nodded. "I see you're doing it like the police really would." She tried to stretch but only ended up stopping midway before she had to catch her breath. "Will you all be staying?" she asked after Bahorel and Bamatabois quit the room.
"I have to get back to work and make sure Bossuet gets some rest," Joly said. Judging by the way Musichetta was looking at him, it seemed as if she'd be accompanying him as well. "Bahorel can call on us tomorrow morning."
"We'll come by here tomorrow, "Cosette said to Eponine. "What, there's no trouble with visiting an injured friend," she said in an undertone to Marius.
"It's just that-"Marius began before finally nodding. "Alright then Cosette. Let's get going before your father wonders if we've been in trouble too."
After a few minutes Feuilly, Leonor, and Grantaire also took their leave while Prouvaire, Azelma, Paulette, and Rossi retreated downstairs to wait either in the kitchen or the concierge's lodge. Only Enjolras, Eponine, and Courfeyrac were left now in the formerly crowded apartment. "He will not stay angry very long. Don't worry about it," Courfeyrac said to Eponine.
Eponine nodded sceptically. "I s'pose that it is up to Claudine now." She turned at the sound of a door opening upstairs, followed by hurried footsteps on the stairway. "In a moment," she whispered before rushing out of the room and into the hall in time to meet whoever was there.
Enjolras turned away at the sight of Eponine trying to console Claudine, who was sobbing violently. "You were saying?" he deadpanned, looking at Courfeyrac.
"Angry with us. As for the more...personal side of the matter..." Courfeyrac trailed off, waiting for the two women to head downstairs. He shook his head. "I figured that Combeferre and Claudine would be the least likely of all of us to create a scene like this."
"How many times have you ever seen them in open conflict?" Enjolras pointed out. He took a deep breath when he saw Combeferre in the doorway. "Please, have a seat."
"I'm sorry for dragging you into this," Combeferre said as he practically collapsed into a chair. For a long moment he was silent, as if he was wrestling with some dreadful thought. "I thought we understood each other," he finally said as he ran his hands through his dishevelled hair.
Enjolras looked down, unsure for a while what to say. He touched his friend's shoulder. "So how do matters stand with you and her?"
"We had it out. It was just as well..." Combeferre said softly, swiping at his now red eyes. "I may be able to forgive her. I can only hope that one day it will be reciprocated."