Jean Prouvaire hastened to his front door when he heard the knocking. Please be Combeferre, he thought. He opened the door to see Marius's anxious face peering back at him. He stepped aside to let him enter.
"Jehan, what's going on? That little boy said to get here as quickly as I could, that it was urgent. Are you all right? Are you in some sort of legal trouble? I'm not a full lawyer yet, you know, but I could try to help you if you—"
"No, no. It's nothing like that," Prouvaire cut him off. "It's... It's Éponine."
"Éponine? You found her? Oh, thank god! Where was she? Can I see her?"
"I found her under the Pont Neuf. I think she's been living there. Marius, she—"
"Living there? I... I knew she was no longer at that apartment, but I didn't think... My god... How long do you think she's been homeless? It would have to at least be a few weeks; she wasn't at her apartment when I went to call on her. I figured she might have just moved, maybe to be closer to her work. The Pont Neuf... Is she—"
"Marius," Prouvaire said in a somewhat louder voice. Marius fell silent. "She's very sick," he told him quietly. "She... She might even be dying."
"Dying?" Marius choked. "N-No..."
"I really can't be sure," he admitted. "I've sent for Combeferre as well. I'm hoping he'll be here soon. But Marius, she... she was just so out of it. I don't think she recognised me and she just kept calling out for you."
"For me?"
Prouvaire nodded. "She's dangerously thin and pale and weak... and her stomach's distended. I'm not a doctor of course, but I'm worried about what that might mean. I fed her a bowl of soup. I don't know when she last ate. She... She was begging for death."
Marius staggered slightly. All colour had drained from his face. "Can I see her?"
"She's in my bedroom. Come along." And Prouvaire led him to his room.
Éponine was still asleep in bed, though sleeping quite fitfully. Her breathing sounded laboured, and she kept jerking and twitching. Still she continued to mumble Marius's name and her skeletal fingers grasped the bed sheets tightly. Her forehead was beaded with an icy sweat and her complexion was stark white. Occasionally, she would cough, deep and wracking coughs that shook her entire frame, but did not wake her. Marius hurried to her and grasped one of her hands tenderly in both of his own.
Prouvaire disappeared for a moment and returned with a bowl of water and a sponge. He dipped the sponge into the water and started to dab Éponine's forehead with it.
"Here," Marius murmured, "let me." Prouvaire passed him the sponge and water, and Marius took over. Just then, there came more knocking at the front door and Prouvaire ran to answer it.
"Combeferre. Thank god," Jehan breathed when he opened the door. Combeferre stepped inside and Jehan filled him in on what was going on. "What do you think it might be?" He asked him. "The fever, the distended stomach..."
"The distended stomach could just be from malnutrition," Combeferre told him, "but it might be something more sinister. It... It is possible that it could be cancer. But I'll have to examine her. I brought my medical bag; I have everything I need. Lead the way."
Prouvaire did as told and brought Combeferre to his room. Combeferre set his bag down on the foot of the bed and opened it. He pulled out a thermometer and something that looked sort of like an ear trumpet, but was actually a fairly new invention from some sixteen years prior called the stethoscope. He started by checking her temperature, since it would take a little while to get a reading. Then he pressed one end of the stethoscope to her chest and the other to his ear. He took out his pocketwatch and watched it as he listened.
"115 beats per minute. That's very fast, especially since she's sleeping." He lowered the stethoscope slightly to listen to her lungs. "Considerable crackling in both lungs. That leads me to believe it's pneumonia." He set the stethoscope down for a moment and gently felt Éponine's stomach. Then he picked up the stethoscope again and pressed it to her stomach. He closed his eyes and focused on just listening. He wasn't sure what exactly he was expecting, but then a soft 'ah' escaped him. "Jehan, listen to this."
Prouvaire's brow furrowed in confusion, but he stepped forward and pressed his ear to the stethoscope. "I don't hear anything."
"Listen very closely."
Prouvaire did just as Combeferre had and closed his eyes. Then he opened them. "It sounds like... fluttering?"
Combeferre listened again and kept track of the rate of the fluttering with his pocketwatch. Then, seeming to come to a conclusion, he straightened and put the stethoscope away. "I believe Mademoiselle Thénardier is with child."
Prouvaire's eyes widened and flickered briefly to Marius. "She's... ah..."
Marius was staring at Éponine as though he had never seen her before. "She didn't tell me," he murmured. "I... I could have helped her..."
"Right now, that's not the thing to worry about. To treat pneumonia, our options are bloodletting, cinchona bark for the fever, and honey garlic tea to suppress coughing. Prouvaire, could you—"
"I'll run to the apothecary. What do you need for the bloodletting?"
"Leeches."
Prouvaire nodded and hurried off. Marius just kept staring at Éponine. His eyes kept moving to her stomach, despite the fact that he was trying not to look. Dutifully, he continued to sponge her forehead. About ten minutes later, Combeferre checked the thermometer, which was now giving a reading of 41 degrees celsius. This was much too high and Combeferre was worried she might begin to seize if they couldn't lower it quickly enough.
Sure enough, no sooner had he thought it did she begin to jerk and spasm uncontrollably. Marius jumped back in shock, but Combeferre rushed forward to roll her onto her side. It was very quick, less than a minute and she was done. She became very still and then she started to vomit. Marius pulled her hair back and Combeferre made sure her airways remained clear. When the vomiting had stopped, Combeferre went in search of a cloth to clean her up. Prouvaire returned just as he was finishing wiping her face and the sheets. He looked back and forth between Marius, who was white as a sheet; Combeferre, who was just setting the cloth down; and Éponine, who had remained asleep through all of it.
"What happened?" He asked.
"Éponine... she... she just started sh-shaking..." Marius stammered.
"She had a febrile seizure," Combeferre explained. "It's because of the fever. It's her body fighting against it. Don't worry; we have what we need to help her now."
"Marius, come with me," Prouvaire said gently. "I'll make you some tea and we'll let Combeferre do what he needs to do."
Marius merely nodded and followed Prouvaire out of the room and into the kitchen. Prouvaire lit a fire under his wood-burning stove and set a kettle upon it. He bade Marius sit down at the table, and then sat down across from him.
"Deep breaths, Marius. Come on, follow my lead."
After a few minutes of following Prouvaire's breathing, Marius did start to feel a bit better. It helped that there were flowers all around and when he inhaled, the sweet scent of a well-cared-for garden greeted him. The kettle started to whistle and Prouvaire stood to pour the tea. He then set a cup in front of Marius and, with his own cup, sat down across from him once more.
"Did... Did Éponine mention anything at all about... about..." Marius started to ask, but Prouvaire shook his head.
"Hardly anything she said was intelligible. Mostly, she just said your name. She wasn't going to let me bring her here until I promised I would bring you to her."
"I'll never leave her side again," Marius vowed. "She... I wish she had come to me. This could have been avoided. What if... What if she doesn't get better? I couldn't bear losing her. She's my best friend."
"I know," Prouvaire murmured, "but we have to have faith that she'll pull through. And when she wakes, you must not let her see your doubts. She needs to believe she'll live too. When a person gives up hope of recovery, it... it goes downhill fast. That's how it was with my mother."
"I'm sorry, Jehan. I didn't know."
"It's all right. It was years ago. But I'm telling you this for a reason: if you want her to recover, you need to make her believe that she can."
"Right. Of course. I... I can do that."
A/N: I wasn't expecting to have to do research for this chapter, but medicine has certainly come a long way from the 1800s. The stethoscope from 1829 is really weird looking and the treatments for infections were not great before antibiotics. It was interesting to research all the same though.