Chapter Six: Faith Soars and Doubt Creeps
After a few weeks of meetings, Grantaire had rented his own furnished lodgings near the Café Musain and was firmly established as a member of the group. He had not yet disagreed with Enjolras directly, but he had said a few things that questioned what Enjolras was saying.
Enjolras was curious about him. He could see that Grantaire genuinely cared about Les Amis de l'ABC and the revolution, so he had trouble understanding why Grantaire seemed to be trying to put everyone off.
He could not have been a spy – he was too genuine for that – but why did he spend most of his time being drunk and criticising his ideals? Perhaps something had happened that had made Grantaire lose all hope? If so, he felt pity towards him.
A faith is a necessity to a man. Woe to him who believes in nothing – that was one of Enjolras' ideals. Did Grantaire disagree with that as well?
After one meeting, Joly, Bossuet and Grantaire were the last to leave. Grantaire seemed to be sober – a rare occasion, so Enjolras thought he would use this opportunity to speak to him.
'Joly, Bossuet, would you mind leaving alone today? I would like to speak to Grantaire alone.' Joly wolf whistled and hurriedly left, dragging Bossuet behind him. Enjolras rolled his eyes.
Grantaire was petrified. Enjolras wanted to speak to him.
He had never even mentioned his name before, and now he wanted to speak to him, alone. He could not imagine any case in which this could be good news. Perhaps he had gone too far with his criticism, and now Enjolras did not want him in the group anymore. He had not thought of that possibility, but he realised he could not afford for that to happen. If he could no longer speak to them, how could he warn them?
Enjolras approached him.
'Are you asking me to leave?' Grantaire blurted out before he had time to think it through. Once he realised what he had said, he was internally facepalming.
'Leave? No! Why on Earth would I do that?' Enjolras seemed shocked.
'Because… I disagree with what you say and I undermine your authority.'
'I am not a dictator, Grantaire. That type of command is something I am fighting against. We are a democracy. You are perfectly within your rights to express your opinion.' Enjolras had not realised how strongly he felt about it until he had stated it to Grantaire. Somehow this cynic seemed to strengthen his beliefs.
'Then – why did you want to speak to me?'
'As the leader, it is my responsibility to ensure everyone is happy. It appears that you are not.'
'No – I – I am, I'm just… I don't think we'll be successful.'
'Is that any reason to stop trying?'
'No, but – doesn't it bother you? If we know we won't succeed, shouldn't we stop and rethink?'
'As long as we have faith, we can succeed.'
'That's what Jehan said.'
'And he's right, Grantaire. You cannot live without faith, so why do you try?'
'I don't try to. I really would like to have faith in the revolution, but I don't. I can't fake it.'
'Then, you must have faith in something. Is there anything you believe in?'
'I believe in you.'
Neither Grantaire nor Enjolras understood the full meaning of those words. Grantaire was unsure whether he had revealed something he shouldn't have and was internally facepalming again, and Enjolras was satisfied that he had got something out of Grantaire.
'What do you mean by that?'
'I'm not really sure myself. I think, if anyone could actually change the world, it would be you.'
Those words pleased Enjolras greatly and he smiled. This was something rarely directed at Grantaire. He put his hand on the stunned man's shoulder.
'Walk with me, Grantaire.' He said, and took them outside.
There were plenty of beggars on the streets, their number increasing with every turn. Grantaire felt that this was deliberate, and Enjolras wanted him to see it.
'Look at them, Grantaire. It breaks my heart to see any human suffer like this. They have done nothing to deserve it, but the people in power have done nothing to help. How can they do this?' His voice broke slightly. 'How can they let others suffer when they have the power to change everything?!'
'Humans are selfish.'
'No, Grantaire! Not all of them. The people in power are. Now, new generations of the rich are taught not to see the poor as human. This cannot continue. We must set an example.'
Grantaire had never in his life met anyone as compassionate as Enjolras. At meetings he seemed to be made of marble, but now he could see that he was human. He was more human than any other human he knew. Their eyes met and Grantaire held his gaze.
'I want to help you. I really do.'
'And I need your help.' This exchange of words while looking straight into each other's eyes radiated honesty. 'Look at them, Grantaire. Why would they not join us? They have nothing left to lose.'
'Maybe they have already lost hope.'
'Then we must help them regain it. We must let them know that we care and we are going to help them.'
'How can I help? I am the one with no hope, remember?'
'I don't believe that. You said you believe in me and I am sure you can make me believe in you.' Enjolras paused. 'More to the point, I didn't bring you here to show you only suffering. I wanted to show you that there is still hope. Come with me'.
Grantaire recognised where they were. It was the Place de la Bastille and what he saw in front of him was the Bastille Elephant.
Somewhere underneath it there seemed to be a doorway. Enjolras knocked four times and quickly a small boy appeared.
'Hello, Enjolras!' He grinned. 'What brings you here?'
'This is…' Enjolras looked back at Grantaire and smiled, 'my… friend – Grantaire. He has joined Les Amis and I want you to show him round.'
'Show him round where?'
'Paris. Well, obviously not the whole of Paris, but the places he should see.'
Grantaire got the feeling this did not mean sightseeing.
'Of course, I understand! Come with me, Grantaire!' The boy darted off and Grantaire only had time to glance back at Enjolras before he ran to catch up with him.
'Er – what is your name?'
'Gavroche', the boy replied, then suddenly stopped. 'First, we get food. There's a bakery over there. I don't think there will be any other people in it. If you distract the baker, I'll be able to take some bread.'
'Wait, you're going to steal it?' Grantaire whispered in alarm.
'Well, do you have any money on you?'
'I think I have a couple of francs.'
'Fine, then. You buy it.'
Grantaire went into the shop and bought two loafs of bread while Gavroche waited outside. He got back and handed Gavroche one of them. The little boy stared at it in admiration.
Gavroche led Grantaire back to the elephant. When he took his coat off, he saw that Gavroche had an abundance of bread and pastries hidden underneath.
'Gavroche!' He exclaimed. 'I bought you bread, you didn't need to steal it!'
'This isn't for me.' Gavroche replied and whistled.
Two boys, even smaller than him, appeared.
'Here you go.' He said, giving them a roll each. 'I told you I'd get you food.'
The boys seemed intimidated by Grantaire, so, having taken their rolls, swiftly retreated.
'Are those your brothers?'
'No. I suppose they're like my adopted children. I found them on the street and took them in.'
Grantaire was seeing the boy in a whole new light.
'Come on, there are more people who need our help.'
This time when they went out, Gavroche stopped by every beggar they saw and gave them some bread. Once they had given out all the bread, they started walking towards another area. The streets were cleaner, the buildings were nicer, there were hardly any beggars, and the people passing by on foot or in carriages looked healthy and well dressed.
'This is the nice area. There is no "beggar scum" here. Only the rich. I think they know about the conditions we live in. They just don't care. It's wrong and it has to change.'
'Do you hate them?'
'No, not all of them. I hate the idea of them, but I know there are some kind people, even among the rich. Enjolras, for example. And there's another strange man who always gives alms to the poor. He has a daughter one of our friends is in love with, I don't know if you've met him. His name is Marius Pontmercy.'
'No, I haven't. Does he come to meetings?'
'He used to, but he didn't really share their beliefs. He's a Buonapartist, as Enjolras would say. But the main reason is because of this girl. He is completely obsessed with her. Anyway, I can't hate all of the rich. I don't know what they're like. Of course, many of them are heartless and terrible, but some of them are the same as us.'
Just then, a scream came from a side alley. It came from an old woman dressed in black.
'Thief!' She screamed. 'That man stole my purse! Someone stop him, please!'
Grantaire realised the man was running towards them, so he tried to step in the way, however Gavroche pulled him back.
'You won't catch him like that,' he said, 'He is stronger than you and he could kill you. Wait until he feels safe.'
Gavroche chased after him, leaving Grantaire behind. The thief turned around and, not seeing anyone behind him, slowed down and moved onto a crowded street. He had not seen Gavroche, who was still following him at a safe distance. Once he entered into the crowd, Gavroche seized his opportunity. He was small so he could fit between everyone's legs. He got near to the man, and gently slipped his hand inside his pocket. He found the purse, pulled it out and started crawling away rapidly.
The moment Gavroche retrieved the purse, the man noticed. However, as he was looking around desperately, he failed to look down and see the little boy swiftly moving away.
The next time Grantaire saw Gavroche was when he was giving the purse back to the woman. The woman smiled and gave him a big, shiny coin, complimenting him for his honesty.
For the next ten minutes, they walked in silence, Gavroche staring at the coin mesmerised. He was not looking where he was going, and Grantaire had to grab his collar to stop him walking into a begging girl.
'Please,' she said, 'my family are starving. Could you please spare any bread?'
They did not have any bread left, but as they walked away, the girl was left staring in awe at the coin in her hand.
