Errantry

"Gavroche! Hey you there, with the sewn up trousers!" Navet hollered in the middle of the street as he watched a throng of young students leave the schoolhouse. Among them were the Thenardier brothers.

Gavroche turned at the sound of his old friend's voice. "Navet, saucy fellow, what brings you to the desert?" he asked the more shabbily dressed boy.

Navet blew his nose and surveyed the smaller boys that Gavroche had with him. "Are they your momes?"

"Yes, and yours?"

"On my own feet. Look, new shoes."

Gavroche looked down appreciatively at his comrade's shod feet. Navet added, "So you waiting for someone?"

Jacques scratched his nose. "Papa hasn't been in town two days."

"You have a pere?" Navet asked confusedly. "I thought..."

"Ah, these ridiculous little ones," Gavroche said, shaking his head. "It's all because of my sister and the time we lived with those students. You remember that smooth-faced gent who asked you to go to Corinth?"

Navet nodded. "So he's been to do with your sister?"

"Not really, she just talks to him a lot. And he got her out of the jug two days ago," Gavroche shrugged. "Too young to be my father anyway."

The four young boys continued walking till they reached a small sort of bistro near the schoolhouse. "Where Zelma works," Neville explained to Navet. "She's our other sister."

Ever since recovering from her illness, Azelma had found work as a daytime cook. This new development allowed the Thenardier siblings to spend the evenings at home or with friends. Today, Azelma was busy chopping onions when her brothers entered the kitchen by the backdoor.

"Don't go asking me now for 'nything. Have my hands full." Azelma said when she saw them. "If I finish early, I'm off somewhere."

"I saw Citizen Jehan in the front room!" Neville said cheekily.

Azelma smiled. "Yes, I know he's with Joly and Musichetta. They're waiting for me. I haven't the time to talk; go and bother Ponine or go to the front room if you like."

The front room of the bistro was comfortably furnished, with well-upholstered chairs and tastefully framed pictures on the walls. "Here, nice old toadstools to perch on," Navet said as he and the boys sat at a table near the window.

"Oh what are you all doing here?" Musichetta asked them.

"You boys are out of school?" Jehan added.

"Out, yes, and wild over Paris. And by the way, here is my comrade Navet," Gavroche said by way of introduction.

"I know him, from the barricade." Joly said. "How do you do?"

"My eyes better than yours," Navet grinned.

The entire group chatted amiably for a while, till it grew dark outside. It was when the first star shone in the sky that they even thought of leaving, and Azelma finally emerged from the kitchen.

"Well, shall we go now?" she asked, wiping her hands.

Just then, the bistro door banged open, and Eponine entered with a wide grin on her face. "I've done it. I've just been to the post and to the printers. And to think I had to write my note so many times over...there was no way I was sending what I wrote the other day," she said triumphantly. "Now Enjolras had better not say I didn't tell him. When he comes back, I'll help him answer for it."

"Answer for what?" Joly asked confusedly.

"Oh, a little errand. At M. Ravigard's expense, I fear."

Montreuil-sur-mer

Enjolras looked at the address scrawled on the folder. "Madame Victurnien, 35 Rue Ligne," he said. "Is that the right address?"

The young boy at the post office nodded. "She still lives there. Old hag never moved. I'll go with you and the Baron, if you like?"

"Actually, what I'd like is to see the old factory here. I know it hasn't been in good shape for several years..." Marius said.

"I'll ask someone to bring you there," the young assistant said, scrambling off the desk and hurrying to the backroom.

"I was planning to go there tomorrow, but why are you in a hurry?" Enjolras asked Marius.

"I have a feeling that Cosette's mother might have worked there. I'd like to see the roster, or better yet, acquire a copy," Marius said. He looked around the squalid post office. "This city has seen better days."

"Yes, much like your father-in-law. You never explained why he doesn't live with you anymore."

"He had a terrible admission to make. He's an ex-convict."

"Marius, what difference did that ever make?"

"He killed that Inspector Javert. He was in the galleys...a man like that, near Cosette...I almost cannot believe it."

Enjolras' eyes hardened. "He saved your life."

Marius swallowed. "I told him so. But he said that 'his past would endanger us all'. What secrets can he be hiding?"

"An ill-considered thought," Enjolras muttered just as the assistant returned with a letter in hand.

"A lady must have missed you very quickly!" the assistant chortled, holding up the note.

"It's from Eponine, no doubt," Marius said.

"Give it to me," Enjolras said sternly to the boy, who handed the letter to him, laughing all the while. The lawyer's eyes narrowed as he opened the envelope and read the note covered in Eponine's hurried scrawl:

Bonjour, Antoine!

I have done my best with that little thing you gave me to do. M. Ravigard doesn't want to print the books; he says it's so expensive. But since I know people are waiting, I had them printed elsewhere. The printers guild are happy; less people to divide all with. It's a bit more costly than you'd planned, but I think you can make up the difference. You owe me a few sous though; the last shop had to do another run, so forgive the ink blots.

Anyhow, it's fine here in Paris. No word yet as to what happened with that carriage; most of the diplomats are fine, but two are still in the hospital. Much talk going around. They are holding the Charter everywhere. I wish you were here to explain some of it to them, or to me.

Till your return,

Eponine

Enjolras shook his head as he folded up the note, a little wary of the familiar tone the correspondence had taken. "What will I do with that girl?" he said wryly. "At least it's all in good hands on her part."

Marius crossed his arms. "I never knew you to be so trusting, especially of Eponine. I was under the impression you detested her."

Enjolras put the note in his pocket. "Not quite. I have no interest in her, and it is her choice if she wants to help me. I will not impose on her."

Marius smiled. "I've seen this before, Enjolras. That poor girl. If she only knew..."