**Disclaimer: Okay, ONCE AGAIN, I do not own any of the Les Misérables
characters…but the Comte de Riqueville and Antoine are mine.
Eponine gasped as she jumped up from the piano bench. The man was in the shadows, but walked out to reveal himself to her. He had a brown jacket over a white shirt with a frilly white cravat wrapped around his neck. He wore dark brown breeches and white leggings and a terrible mask like a distorted human skull. He was very thin, which added to the skeletal-like impression. He seemed to reek of cruelty. Eponine disliked the man instantly.
"I repeat, what do you think you are doing?" he demanded.
She did not like to be startled, nor have demands made upon her, and all she wanted was a rest from dancing! Her old self started to emerge as her indignation built up. "I was washing my laundry," Eponine retorted, sarcastically. "What do you think I was doing?"
He walked even closer to her so that his hideous skull-mask was only inches away from her own. "You have a sharp tongue for someone who has rudely left the party and wandered off in a home that is not hers," he said icily. "This chateau doesn't belong to you and neither does that piano that you were making yourself comfortable with."
Eponine panicked. He was right. It was not her home and she should not have left the party. She risked slighting Uncle Erik's good name for her actions. She rid herself of her indignation and forced a polite smile. She bowed and said, "I'm sorry, Monsieur. I shall return to the masquerade immediately." She turned to go through the door she had come through.
"Not that way," he said. "Nobody knows who you are and your spectacular costume has piqued the interest of many people. I'm surprised no others have seen you go through that door and followed you. You shall not reenter the same way and cause rumors. Follow me."
He held out his arm to her and she reluctantly took it. He was a very stiff, uptight man and said nothing to her as they walked. On their way back to the party, they ran into a gay-hearted fellow dressed in light colors and mask to resemble a hawk. Apparently, the hawk knew the skull and, throwing his arms into the air, exclaimed, "Antoine! Where did you run off to? I was about to send out a search party!" Then, the happy man noticed Eponine and said, "What have we here, Antoine. A beautiful lady in red? No wonder you escaped!"
Antoine acted in no way amused. "She wandered away from the masquerade and took it upon herself to make use of the music room, my good friend. I was just showing this little troublemaker back to the party and I will show her out the door should she be so discourteous again."
Eponine's face became hot with embarrassment. She couldn't even speak; she was so shocked by the coldness in Antoine's voice. She got the impression that he knew something about her that she wasn't aware of. She felt as if she had unknowingly crossed a line of his and she was dangerously close to seeing his wrath. She was almost ready to protest when the happy young man said, "Antoine, what's come over you? Why are you so sullen? This is a fabulous masquerade and you are the only owner of a frown. Now, let me take this red lady off your hands so you can return to the party. Go, my friend! Drink, dance, and put a smile on your face!"
Before Eponine could say a word, the hawk had swept her off toward the doors of the masquerade. Without her consent, he'd taken her right hand in his left, put his arm around her, and twirled her around the ballroom floor.
"Now, my mysterious lady in red," he said as they danced. "I believe I saved your skin. So tell me, how did you ever upset Antoine to such a degree? His mood toward you could have positively curdled milk!"
"Well," Eponine began carefully, "I was tired from dancing. Three straight hours of dancing! Every time I tried to take a rest, another man wanted to dance—"
"I'm not surprised about that," he said admiringly. "You do cut a striking figure."
Eponine began turning the shade of her mask.
"—but I couldn't refuse all those kind men," she continued. "So when I found the right opportunity, I left through a door that led into a hall whose only other door led to the music room. There was a grand piano in the middle of the room…and I'm quite good with the piano, so I started to play a piece that I found on it. Then Antoine," Eponine cringed when she said the distasteful man's name, "came in and said I was being rude for leaving the party and was going to show me back when we met with you."
"And…" the hawk said.
"And?" replied Eponine, confused.
"Well, there must be something else! Antoine seemed genuinely offended, and I don't see anything at all wrong in your actions from what you told me."
Eponine stopped their dance. She was outraged. "Are you saying that I am be untruthful? Are you calling me a liar?" she cried.
The hawk swept her back into dance before as he quickly said, "No, no, no, red lady. I am just saying that the facts don't seem to fit. Why don't we forget all about it and have a good time. It's passed, so it is of not matter."
"Sounds like a splendid idea to me," she replied, her anger abated.
They continued dancing without speaking and Eponine was surprised that every time a man tried to cut in, he would sweep her away to another area of the dance floor. Ever time she looked up to his face, his lips were curled as if always on the verge of a smile. He seemed like a very gay- hearted man, indeed.
"So you are good at playing the piano," he inquired.
She had an idea that the hawk had a slight mischievous tone to his voice. "Yes," said Eponine, suspiciously.
Her intuition was not far off the mark. "Since I was so kind of to rescue you from an angry Antoine," he emphasized the word "angry", "will you play a song for me?" He cocked his head as he looked down at her as if it was the grandest idea in the world. His blue eyes sparkled behind his mask.
Eponine hesitated. She was afraid that she had been "rescued" by a true troublemaker and she didn't want to cause and more fresh offenses. Suddenly, a large brass grandfather clock she had not yet noticed struck two o'clock, giving her a way to escape more mischief.
"I'm sorry," she said as she pulled away. "I have to find my father. He will wonder where I am. I'm sure he is very tired by now. We are not staying the night, we are going straight home." She started to move through the crowd away from the hawk.
"Wait!" he cried. "You at least cannot leave without at least tell me your name, lady in red." He looked bereft.
Eponine couldn't help feeling sorry for him. Had he fallen for her? She couldn't tell; it was all so new to her. "Eponine! My name is Eponine!" she cried as she disappeared into the crowd.
The man stood there, looking dumbfounded. From his lip, ever so quietly, a single word slipped.
"Ponine…"
Eponine gasped as she jumped up from the piano bench. The man was in the shadows, but walked out to reveal himself to her. He had a brown jacket over a white shirt with a frilly white cravat wrapped around his neck. He wore dark brown breeches and white leggings and a terrible mask like a distorted human skull. He was very thin, which added to the skeletal-like impression. He seemed to reek of cruelty. Eponine disliked the man instantly.
"I repeat, what do you think you are doing?" he demanded.
She did not like to be startled, nor have demands made upon her, and all she wanted was a rest from dancing! Her old self started to emerge as her indignation built up. "I was washing my laundry," Eponine retorted, sarcastically. "What do you think I was doing?"
He walked even closer to her so that his hideous skull-mask was only inches away from her own. "You have a sharp tongue for someone who has rudely left the party and wandered off in a home that is not hers," he said icily. "This chateau doesn't belong to you and neither does that piano that you were making yourself comfortable with."
Eponine panicked. He was right. It was not her home and she should not have left the party. She risked slighting Uncle Erik's good name for her actions. She rid herself of her indignation and forced a polite smile. She bowed and said, "I'm sorry, Monsieur. I shall return to the masquerade immediately." She turned to go through the door she had come through.
"Not that way," he said. "Nobody knows who you are and your spectacular costume has piqued the interest of many people. I'm surprised no others have seen you go through that door and followed you. You shall not reenter the same way and cause rumors. Follow me."
He held out his arm to her and she reluctantly took it. He was a very stiff, uptight man and said nothing to her as they walked. On their way back to the party, they ran into a gay-hearted fellow dressed in light colors and mask to resemble a hawk. Apparently, the hawk knew the skull and, throwing his arms into the air, exclaimed, "Antoine! Where did you run off to? I was about to send out a search party!" Then, the happy man noticed Eponine and said, "What have we here, Antoine. A beautiful lady in red? No wonder you escaped!"
Antoine acted in no way amused. "She wandered away from the masquerade and took it upon herself to make use of the music room, my good friend. I was just showing this little troublemaker back to the party and I will show her out the door should she be so discourteous again."
Eponine's face became hot with embarrassment. She couldn't even speak; she was so shocked by the coldness in Antoine's voice. She got the impression that he knew something about her that she wasn't aware of. She felt as if she had unknowingly crossed a line of his and she was dangerously close to seeing his wrath. She was almost ready to protest when the happy young man said, "Antoine, what's come over you? Why are you so sullen? This is a fabulous masquerade and you are the only owner of a frown. Now, let me take this red lady off your hands so you can return to the party. Go, my friend! Drink, dance, and put a smile on your face!"
Before Eponine could say a word, the hawk had swept her off toward the doors of the masquerade. Without her consent, he'd taken her right hand in his left, put his arm around her, and twirled her around the ballroom floor.
"Now, my mysterious lady in red," he said as they danced. "I believe I saved your skin. So tell me, how did you ever upset Antoine to such a degree? His mood toward you could have positively curdled milk!"
"Well," Eponine began carefully, "I was tired from dancing. Three straight hours of dancing! Every time I tried to take a rest, another man wanted to dance—"
"I'm not surprised about that," he said admiringly. "You do cut a striking figure."
Eponine began turning the shade of her mask.
"—but I couldn't refuse all those kind men," she continued. "So when I found the right opportunity, I left through a door that led into a hall whose only other door led to the music room. There was a grand piano in the middle of the room…and I'm quite good with the piano, so I started to play a piece that I found on it. Then Antoine," Eponine cringed when she said the distasteful man's name, "came in and said I was being rude for leaving the party and was going to show me back when we met with you."
"And…" the hawk said.
"And?" replied Eponine, confused.
"Well, there must be something else! Antoine seemed genuinely offended, and I don't see anything at all wrong in your actions from what you told me."
Eponine stopped their dance. She was outraged. "Are you saying that I am be untruthful? Are you calling me a liar?" she cried.
The hawk swept her back into dance before as he quickly said, "No, no, no, red lady. I am just saying that the facts don't seem to fit. Why don't we forget all about it and have a good time. It's passed, so it is of not matter."
"Sounds like a splendid idea to me," she replied, her anger abated.
They continued dancing without speaking and Eponine was surprised that every time a man tried to cut in, he would sweep her away to another area of the dance floor. Ever time she looked up to his face, his lips were curled as if always on the verge of a smile. He seemed like a very gay- hearted man, indeed.
"So you are good at playing the piano," he inquired.
She had an idea that the hawk had a slight mischievous tone to his voice. "Yes," said Eponine, suspiciously.
Her intuition was not far off the mark. "Since I was so kind of to rescue you from an angry Antoine," he emphasized the word "angry", "will you play a song for me?" He cocked his head as he looked down at her as if it was the grandest idea in the world. His blue eyes sparkled behind his mask.
Eponine hesitated. She was afraid that she had been "rescued" by a true troublemaker and she didn't want to cause and more fresh offenses. Suddenly, a large brass grandfather clock she had not yet noticed struck two o'clock, giving her a way to escape more mischief.
"I'm sorry," she said as she pulled away. "I have to find my father. He will wonder where I am. I'm sure he is very tired by now. We are not staying the night, we are going straight home." She started to move through the crowd away from the hawk.
"Wait!" he cried. "You at least cannot leave without at least tell me your name, lady in red." He looked bereft.
Eponine couldn't help feeling sorry for him. Had he fallen for her? She couldn't tell; it was all so new to her. "Eponine! My name is Eponine!" she cried as she disappeared into the crowd.
The man stood there, looking dumbfounded. From his lip, ever so quietly, a single word slipped.
"Ponine…"