Eponine felt completely uncomfortable in the Chagny home ever since her encounter with Antoine. And she would have to be their guest for two months! She wasn't sure if she could bear it. Still, she kept the incident secret from her Uncle Erik. She was sure that Uncle Erik loved her, but nevertheless, he had known the Chagny's for years and years and it would hurt him to experience a conflict between people he cared for.
Eponine didn't see Antoine until the night of the masquerade, two nights after he left to see his friend. She came down the grand staircase and saw him standing there with that terrible smirk on his face. She wished she could slap that expression off of him, but she swallowed her irritation and kept walking down the stairs. What is he so happy about? she wondered, not liking the feeling in the room. The Comte de Chagny and his overly elegant wife, Heloise, were standing near the doorway talking quietly to each other.
Heloise looked up and saw Eponine at the bottom of the stairs. "Ah, Eponine! Your costume is absolutely fantastic!" she exclaimed as she ran over to her. Then she frowned. "But, Cousin Erik is not feeling well tonight. He will not be able to escort you to the masquerade," she said in a too-tragic voice.
Eponine blanched. "Uncle Erik is sick?" she cried. "I must go to him."
Before she could say anything else, Antoine sped over to her and offered her his arm. "Then let me take you to him," he said in a happy tone, yet his eyes still cold as frost.
Eponine couldn't help the incredulous look on her face, but took his arm anyway. He put his surprisingly warm hand over hers and walked her to Uncle Erik's room.
"I'm not a dog, you know," she said, obviously annoyed. "I can walk myself. I don't know what you're up to, but I do not like it."
Antoine said nothing, which angered Eponine even more. His face still held that secretly amused expression.
Uncle Erik was lying in his bed, reading a book when Eponine entered. She snatched her hand away from Antoine's and rushed over to Uncle Erik.
"Are you all right?" she cried as she took one of his hands hers.
Uncle Erik chuckled and said, "Yes, I'm fine. I just don't feel up to going to the masquerade tonight. The damp Paris air is affecting my lungs and causing me coughing fits. It is better that I do not go." Uncle Erik patted Eponine's hand. "But you go and have a lovely evening."
"First off, I don't have an escort since you feel under the weather," Eponine said determinedly as she pulled off her mask. "Secondly, I told you that I would take care of you. I will stay here with you and make sure you get enough coffee or tea and medicine. I'll read to you so you can fall asleep more easily, and I'll sing you a song or two, if you'd like. You won't have to get up for anything."
Uncle Erik looked genuinely touched. "I am so happy that you care for me so much," he said. "But I want you to go to the masquerade and have fun tonight." Eponine looked as if she were going to protest, when he gestured to Antoine and said, "and Antoine said that he would be delighted to escort you since I am not able to."
Eponine looked back at Antoine who looked triumphant. She didn't want that odious creature escorting her anywhere, but she couldn't refuse Uncle Erik's wishes. Reluctantly, she gave in.
"All right," she said with a defeated sigh. "I'll go."
"Good," said Antoine, signifying it was the end of the discussion. "We must go now, dearest Eponine. Father and mother have already left. The masquerade has already begun and it wouldn't do to be too incredibly late." He pulled Eponine out the door before she could say good-bye.
"Unless, of course, you would like to be incredibly late," he said suggestively, making Eponine cringe.
"You are absolutely despicable, Antoine."
* * * * *
The masquerade was even grander than the one Rouen. There were more people and the ballroom was twice as big, twice as magnificent. Had Antoine not been her escort, she would be completely in awe, but his presence was putting a damper on the evening.
He acted very regal, walking with his back stiff, and addressed everyone as if he were superior. He's so vain, thought Eponine. I can't believe I'm escorted by him tonight!
He immediately brought her to the dance floor and took a commanding lead. The way he danced made her feel as if she were just an ornament to make him look better, and that she didn't exist unless she made a wrong step. They danced this way for an hour. He didn't speak a word to her; he just looked at her haughtily through his skull-like mask. This one was similar to the last one, except it had horns. I wonder if he has a set of hideous skull masks, she wondered.
Finally, he deigned to speak to her. "I'm tired," he said. He walked her off the dance floor, making Eponine bypass many dance proposals by forcing her forward until they reached a table and two chairs.
Eponine was enraged by now. She turned around and looked him in the eye when they reached the table. "How dare you force me like that! I had many dance proposals that I wished to take!"
Antoine's eyes were like cold steel. He pushed her down into her chair and leaned his face in close to hers and said in a violent whisper, "Don't you defy me, you--"
Before he could finish speaking, a man with a familiar gait and voice put his hand on Antoine's shoulder, and cried, "Antoine! You made it, then! Why do you always wear those ridiculous death masks?" the man chided. "Everyone knows it's you when you wear them. Cos has expressed a wish to have a dance with you. Why don't you both take off to the dance floor and have some fun?" He pushed a woman in bronze that was standing next to him and Antoine off to the dance floor before they could protest.
Eponine knew right off who this man was; he was the hawk from the last masquerade. Except tonight, he was dressed like a peacock! Eponine looked up at him in awe and gratitude.
"Why, if it isn't a fellow peacock!" he exclaimed. "I must say, you are more ravishing as the beautiful pheasant than I," he said with an appreciative look in his eyes.
This man had a knack for making her blush. He was so happy and it seemed contagious. His smile was broad and engaging, and he seemed to radiate cheerfulness. Eponine already felt much better with him nearby.
"I could be wrong, but I have a feeling that you are the red vixen from the masquerade in Rouen," he said. "And if I am right, then that means that I have saved you once again from the terrible wrath of Antoine the Furious."
Eponine became angry. "Antoine is a stupid sack of cow filth," she said. "He thinks that just because he landed the role of my escort tonight that he can force me around."
"Ah, I see," said the man.
Eponine narrowed her eyes. "I wonder. Are you the man he calls `Pontcy'," she guessed.
"That I am!" he said as he stood up and bowed. "And, shall I have this dance?" He held his hand out to her.
She took it and they danced out onto the ballroom floor, amazing some of the onlookers with their skill and their carefree attitudes.
"You know, you remind me of someone I used to know," Pontcy said.
Eponine laughed. "I thought that about you when I first met you. You seem so familiar to me, but that often seems the case when you meet gay-hearted people." She paused. "What do you do?"
"Well," he began. "I run a factory in Montreuil-sur-Mer. It is quite prosperous. It was started by my wife's father. He was quite an ingenious man. It is the business of the town. Almost everyone in Montreuil-sur-Mer works there."
Eponine felt a little sad at the fact that he was married, but smothered it. "Was that your wife? The one that you told to dance with Antoine?"
"Yes."
"She didn't look very happy about it."
He threw his head back and laughed. "Well, Cos isn't very fond of Antoine. Not at all." He spun Eponine around before he continued, "In fact, she hates him. But I couldn't let you sit there and be called names by Antoine, and it wouldn't do for me to ask Antoine to dance, now would it?"
Eponine erupted into laughter. "No! It wouldn't do at all!"
The man cocked his head to the side and looked down at her with a curious look. "Your voice is so familiar. You remind me of someone..." He looked up as he trailed off.
"Who, Pontcy?" Eponine giggled. "Who do I remind you of?"
They had danced to the edge of the floor, when Pontcy pulled her from the dance and into a hallway that led to another hallway that led into a massive library.
He stood with his back to her as if he were thinking very hard. Eponine was startled and confused. Why did he stop our dance? Why did he bring me in here? she thought. She was just about to voice her thoughts when he spoke.
"Maybe you seem familiar because you share her name," he began. He sounded shaken. "There was a girl I knew when I was younger and her name was Ponine."
Eponine couldn't believe her ears. When he said "Ponine", she could almost believe...But no, he was dead and gone. But still, the man's voice! It is so like...
Hardly above a whisper, she spoke. "Marius?"
Eponine didn't see Antoine until the night of the masquerade, two nights after he left to see his friend. She came down the grand staircase and saw him standing there with that terrible smirk on his face. She wished she could slap that expression off of him, but she swallowed her irritation and kept walking down the stairs. What is he so happy about? she wondered, not liking the feeling in the room. The Comte de Chagny and his overly elegant wife, Heloise, were standing near the doorway talking quietly to each other.
Heloise looked up and saw Eponine at the bottom of the stairs. "Ah, Eponine! Your costume is absolutely fantastic!" she exclaimed as she ran over to her. Then she frowned. "But, Cousin Erik is not feeling well tonight. He will not be able to escort you to the masquerade," she said in a too-tragic voice.
Eponine blanched. "Uncle Erik is sick?" she cried. "I must go to him."
Before she could say anything else, Antoine sped over to her and offered her his arm. "Then let me take you to him," he said in a happy tone, yet his eyes still cold as frost.
Eponine couldn't help the incredulous look on her face, but took his arm anyway. He put his surprisingly warm hand over hers and walked her to Uncle Erik's room.
"I'm not a dog, you know," she said, obviously annoyed. "I can walk myself. I don't know what you're up to, but I do not like it."
Antoine said nothing, which angered Eponine even more. His face still held that secretly amused expression.
Uncle Erik was lying in his bed, reading a book when Eponine entered. She snatched her hand away from Antoine's and rushed over to Uncle Erik.
"Are you all right?" she cried as she took one of his hands hers.
Uncle Erik chuckled and said, "Yes, I'm fine. I just don't feel up to going to the masquerade tonight. The damp Paris air is affecting my lungs and causing me coughing fits. It is better that I do not go." Uncle Erik patted Eponine's hand. "But you go and have a lovely evening."
"First off, I don't have an escort since you feel under the weather," Eponine said determinedly as she pulled off her mask. "Secondly, I told you that I would take care of you. I will stay here with you and make sure you get enough coffee or tea and medicine. I'll read to you so you can fall asleep more easily, and I'll sing you a song or two, if you'd like. You won't have to get up for anything."
Uncle Erik looked genuinely touched. "I am so happy that you care for me so much," he said. "But I want you to go to the masquerade and have fun tonight." Eponine looked as if she were going to protest, when he gestured to Antoine and said, "and Antoine said that he would be delighted to escort you since I am not able to."
Eponine looked back at Antoine who looked triumphant. She didn't want that odious creature escorting her anywhere, but she couldn't refuse Uncle Erik's wishes. Reluctantly, she gave in.
"All right," she said with a defeated sigh. "I'll go."
"Good," said Antoine, signifying it was the end of the discussion. "We must go now, dearest Eponine. Father and mother have already left. The masquerade has already begun and it wouldn't do to be too incredibly late." He pulled Eponine out the door before she could say good-bye.
"Unless, of course, you would like to be incredibly late," he said suggestively, making Eponine cringe.
"You are absolutely despicable, Antoine."
* * * * *
The masquerade was even grander than the one Rouen. There were more people and the ballroom was twice as big, twice as magnificent. Had Antoine not been her escort, she would be completely in awe, but his presence was putting a damper on the evening.
He acted very regal, walking with his back stiff, and addressed everyone as if he were superior. He's so vain, thought Eponine. I can't believe I'm escorted by him tonight!
He immediately brought her to the dance floor and took a commanding lead. The way he danced made her feel as if she were just an ornament to make him look better, and that she didn't exist unless she made a wrong step. They danced this way for an hour. He didn't speak a word to her; he just looked at her haughtily through his skull-like mask. This one was similar to the last one, except it had horns. I wonder if he has a set of hideous skull masks, she wondered.
Finally, he deigned to speak to her. "I'm tired," he said. He walked her off the dance floor, making Eponine bypass many dance proposals by forcing her forward until they reached a table and two chairs.
Eponine was enraged by now. She turned around and looked him in the eye when they reached the table. "How dare you force me like that! I had many dance proposals that I wished to take!"
Antoine's eyes were like cold steel. He pushed her down into her chair and leaned his face in close to hers and said in a violent whisper, "Don't you defy me, you--"
Before he could finish speaking, a man with a familiar gait and voice put his hand on Antoine's shoulder, and cried, "Antoine! You made it, then! Why do you always wear those ridiculous death masks?" the man chided. "Everyone knows it's you when you wear them. Cos has expressed a wish to have a dance with you. Why don't you both take off to the dance floor and have some fun?" He pushed a woman in bronze that was standing next to him and Antoine off to the dance floor before they could protest.
Eponine knew right off who this man was; he was the hawk from the last masquerade. Except tonight, he was dressed like a peacock! Eponine looked up at him in awe and gratitude.
"Why, if it isn't a fellow peacock!" he exclaimed. "I must say, you are more ravishing as the beautiful pheasant than I," he said with an appreciative look in his eyes.
This man had a knack for making her blush. He was so happy and it seemed contagious. His smile was broad and engaging, and he seemed to radiate cheerfulness. Eponine already felt much better with him nearby.
"I could be wrong, but I have a feeling that you are the red vixen from the masquerade in Rouen," he said. "And if I am right, then that means that I have saved you once again from the terrible wrath of Antoine the Furious."
Eponine became angry. "Antoine is a stupid sack of cow filth," she said. "He thinks that just because he landed the role of my escort tonight that he can force me around."
"Ah, I see," said the man.
Eponine narrowed her eyes. "I wonder. Are you the man he calls `Pontcy'," she guessed.
"That I am!" he said as he stood up and bowed. "And, shall I have this dance?" He held his hand out to her.
She took it and they danced out onto the ballroom floor, amazing some of the onlookers with their skill and their carefree attitudes.
"You know, you remind me of someone I used to know," Pontcy said.
Eponine laughed. "I thought that about you when I first met you. You seem so familiar to me, but that often seems the case when you meet gay-hearted people." She paused. "What do you do?"
"Well," he began. "I run a factory in Montreuil-sur-Mer. It is quite prosperous. It was started by my wife's father. He was quite an ingenious man. It is the business of the town. Almost everyone in Montreuil-sur-Mer works there."
Eponine felt a little sad at the fact that he was married, but smothered it. "Was that your wife? The one that you told to dance with Antoine?"
"Yes."
"She didn't look very happy about it."
He threw his head back and laughed. "Well, Cos isn't very fond of Antoine. Not at all." He spun Eponine around before he continued, "In fact, she hates him. But I couldn't let you sit there and be called names by Antoine, and it wouldn't do for me to ask Antoine to dance, now would it?"
Eponine erupted into laughter. "No! It wouldn't do at all!"
The man cocked his head to the side and looked down at her with a curious look. "Your voice is so familiar. You remind me of someone..." He looked up as he trailed off.
"Who, Pontcy?" Eponine giggled. "Who do I remind you of?"
They had danced to the edge of the floor, when Pontcy pulled her from the dance and into a hallway that led to another hallway that led into a massive library.
He stood with his back to her as if he were thinking very hard. Eponine was startled and confused. Why did he stop our dance? Why did he bring me in here? she thought. She was just about to voice her thoughts when he spoke.
"Maybe you seem familiar because you share her name," he began. He sounded shaken. "There was a girl I knew when I was younger and her name was Ponine."
Eponine couldn't believe her ears. When he said "Ponine", she could almost believe...But no, he was dead and gone. But still, the man's voice! It is so like...
Hardly above a whisper, she spoke. "Marius?"