A Vantage Point

Jean Valjean could not quite know everything there was to know about Paris, by virtue of the fact that he usually kept to himself, and in his usual haunts at that. After seeing off Cosette and Fantine in Les Halles before they met with Marius, Valjean found himself wandering in the neighborhood of the Temple.

"The Bon Vivant," he read aloud as he passed by a cafe. He stepped out of the way and under an awning just as a fiacre drew up.

"They say the wine here is good," he heard Azelma say merrily as she alighted from the fiacre.

"Oui, but it comes at a rather hefty price," Courfeyrac pointed out as he opened the door of the cafe. "After you," he said to Azelma as he bowed.

"I'd rather enter on your arm, Monsieur," Azelma said.

Nearby, Eponine and Enjolras glanced at each other. "Would you be fine with it?" Eponine asked him coyly.

"I do not care for appearances," Enjolras replied, daring to meet her gaze.

"Enjolras, be a gentleman," Combeferre chided.

"I didn't say I wouldn't be," the younger man retorted. "Mademoiselle Thenardier?" he asked, offering his arm.

Eponine nodded. "There, that's better."

Jehan and Bossuet stifled their laughter as they watched this interlude. "He's got just over half a year before..." Bossuet said.

"Don't remind him. But at least there's talk of things starting by April," Jehan said in an undertone as they entered the cafe.

Only then did Valjean dare to come out of his hiding place. "Some tale this is going to be." he thought. He wrapped his coat more tightly around himself as he began walking away from the well-lit cafe, for fear that all the same, he would be recognized by the young men and women.

His path took him right by the Rue des Filles du Calvaire. As Valjean reached the sixth house, he could not help but stop under the lamp at the gate, just to warm his hands. He became aware, as he stood there, of what sounded like boisterous conversation from the front room.

"See, that rogue! Living in that hovel all this time, then with those students---why, what foolishness has gotten into him? I'd go out right now and give him that thrashing he deserves. Marius, Marius, why must you be such a scapegrace to play the Republican?" an old man bellowed.

"Careful now, Monsieur. He probably has some grave reason---" another voice, that of a young man, said.

"I don't care for such grave reasons. You lancers always have grave reasons for going about, fo calling here, so forget all that. Ah, give me my coat there, Theodule. And stop standing around there, looking like a fool!"

"It's snowing---"

Valjean jumped back as the front door was thrown open to reveal the ramrod straight form of Luc-Esprit Gillenormand, who'd just managed to throw on his hat and his coat. Beside him was a tall lancer with a mustache. This young man was fervently trying to reason with the nonagenarian, who kept on waving him off. Behind Theodule, however, stood the slightly portly form of M. Thenardier.

M. Gillenormand turned to M. Thenardier. "Rue de la Verrerie, you said?" he asked.

"Oui, and I am glad to have been at your service, gracious Monsieur," M. Thenardier said, bowing very low.

"We shall meet again soon. Ah, you know much---" M. Gillenormand said as a carriage drew up to the door. He got in and nodded to the two men still standing in the doorway before the carriage drove off. On the way out, the carriage wheels splashed in the mud, soaking Valjean, who stood nearby.

M. Thenardier raced out of the gate shortly after and his eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Valjean. "Only now you come?"

"I was earning my own bread. It's not a good season, however," Valjean said cordially.

M. Thenardier glanced back to the house. "They should be coming out now. I wonder though, if I'd sent my fees to do this, if they would have done much better. Perhaps that lancer---"

Valjean sighed resignedly. "That lancer would have an interest in one of them, but then much trouble would arise from that situation." he thought. He wisely chose not to mention where exactly the Thenardier girls were having their supper. "You sent Montparnasse there?"

"His leg is better, is it not? And any way, they have help"

"It will take some time."

Just then, the gate opened, and a tall, wiry Englishwoman stood there. "Now don't call me Mamselle Miss. They know me here as Nicolette" she said as Montparnasse raced out, followed by Babet and Brujon.

"There, merci, Nicolette," Brujon said, kissing the woman's cheek. "If you see Magnon, send her my regards, and Babet's."

"Oh how now, Montparnasse, no grisette to mention?" Mamselle Miss said with a pout.

Montparnasse shook his head. "Not at this point, I am sad to say," he said before joining his comrades in the street.

M. Thenardier motioned to the pouches in their hands. "How much did you get?"

"Half of everything, and a few things from upstairs," Brujon muttered. "We have to sell these quick--"

M. Thenardier's face reddened. "Sell? On New Year's Eve? Are you mad?"

"Why, I know a few fools who are willing to buy---" Babet said. "There's a cafe down there, surely it wouldn't take long to come as a peddler..."

Valjean cleared his throat. "I suggest you do not go that way. There are gendarmes around there," he said. "I barely escaped."

"You were never a good liar, Valjean." M. Thenardier scowled.

Valjean paused, trying to figure out his next words. He knew that he had little time to run to the Latin Quartier to warn Cosette, Fantine, and Marius about M. Gillenormand, but he was not about to allow mayhem to occur elsewhere, if he could help it. "There are people there who will recognize you. You are after all, known in these parts," he said.

"Well, I'm sending in Montparnasse and Babet." Brujon said.

"An even worse act," Valjean thought, fighting the urge to wince. "Montparnasse will be recognized there as well."

"Fine then, if you keep on insisting! You've gone odd as of late," Brujon snapped. "Well, you'll have no part in this," he said as he put on a cloak and drew its hood up. "A bien tot."

Valjean felt a pit grow in his stomach as he watched them go. "God have mercy on us," he muttered before walking the other way, towards the Latin Quartier.