Recognition

"What is this place they're bringing us to?" Joly asked as he turned to his companions in the wagon.

"La Force, most likely," Enjolras replied matter-of-factly. "That was where we had to bail out Bahorel last month."

"Where will they bring me?" Cosette asked, daring to raise her gaze from the floor.

"I'm not sure. Perhaps Les Madelonttes," Courfeyrac said.

"There? Isn't there any way...no, I know La Force is a men's prison, but Musichetta---" Joly began.

"Of all times to be talking about mistresses..." Enjolras muttered.

"I was about to say that she's one of the few people who can get Cosette out of this mess," Joly finished curtly, giving his friend a pointed look.

"Now, now, this is no time for arguments," Courfeyrac said as the wagon stopped in the middle of a crowded yard. "Here comes our escort."

Sure enough, a guard was coming to open up the back of the wagon. Cosette made sure to stand up straight as he did so. "Step out. We're at La Force," the guard ordered gruffly.

"What of the girl?" Joly asked, gesturing to Cosette.

The guard stared at Cosette for a moment before leaving to confer with some of his comrades. The students watched him intently as he did this. Cosette on the other hand went to the edge of the wagon and peered out into the prison yard.

"What is going to become of me?" she wondered. Surely Musichetta would bail out Joly, but would she be as lucky as he was? And what about the others?

A flash of white near the wagon caught Cosette's eye. She barely heard Enjolras telling her to stay hidden as she leaned out to investigate. Cosette's breath caught in her throat as she watched an elderly convict walk by, carrying a sack of rocks. His hair was pure white, and he dragged his right leg slightly.

Before Cosette could stop herself, the call had already left her lips: "Father!"

The convict stopped in his tracks, then slowly turned towards Cosette and her companions. "Who of you called me?" he asked slowly.

Cosette swallowed hard. "Father, don't you know me?"

The convict's eyes were confused as he looked at Cosette's face. "I never had a child, little girl."

"You knew my mother!" Cosette said, feeling fear well up within her. "Is he even who I think he is? And if he is, why doesn't he know me?" she thought, ignoring the pain threatening to poison her mind.

"Your mother...who was she?" the old man asked.

"I never knew her name!" Cosette said, realizing she was now at a loss. "Father, don't you remember? It's me, Cosette!"

At the mention of Cosette's name, Jean Valjean dropped the sack he was carrying. "Dieu, it cannot be," Valjean whispered, stepping closer to catch Cosette's hand.

"Father, dear father, it's been years! You were here all this while?" Cosette said, now on the verge of sobbing as she let Valjean take her hand. The pain of her abandonment, combined with the confusion of the hour, made speaking very difficult. "You won't believe what I've come to!" she managed to say at last.

Just then, the guard returned and his eyes widened as he took in this scene. "You there! Get away from that wagon!" he barked at Valjean.

"Monsieur---" Valjean began slowly.

The guard struck Valjean smartly with a stick he'd been carrying. Valjean muttered something and reluctantly picked up his sack even as the jailer stood between him and Cosette. "What did I tell you? Now get back to your work, if you know what's good for you! And as for you, little girl, it's off to Les Madelonttes..."

"No, no..." Cosette whispered, feeling horror overtake her at these words. "M'sieur, my father is here. Someone will come for me and the others presently..."

"Out with you, girl!" the guard snapped, half-dragging Cosette off the wagon despite her companions' efforts to prevent this.

"Enough of this!" Enjolras shouted over the confusion. Strangely, his cry also seemed to be echoed from another place in the yard.

Cosette stopped protesting even as the guard let go of her. Three more people had arrived in the prison yard. One of them was Javert, wearing a sour expression. the other was a lawyer of some sort, judging by his fine suit that suited even his corpulent form. The last was none other than Musichetta herself.

"See, I told you they could be reasoned with," the lawyer said to Musichetta.

The grisette smiled at him gratefully. "M. Tholomyes, I can never repay you---"

Strangely, Valjean's eyes darkened at this even as the others broke out into smiles and Courfeyrac made a quip about the timeliness of particular attorneys.