"… Monsieur l'Inspecteur, give me your plate, if you please! You have eaten so little! The pancakes turned out all right, thank God, just as M. Jean liked them – thin and crispy…."
"Do eat already, will you?", the boy smirked. " You are no ballerina to be on a diet!"
"GAVROCHE!"
Javert absent-mindedly let Toussaint , who was bustling around like a true Martha, to refill his plate. It came to his mind that should he be a frequent guest at this house, he'd soon resemble, at least in appearance, his boss, Prefect Gisquet, who was by no means slim. Immediately he reminded himself: "They only invited you out of politeness. Only as a tribute to Valjean. " Strangely for him , the thought aroused a feeling of bitter dejection in his heart.
The inspector has never been the one for socializing, and now was feeling definitely out of place. Not only because of the change of enviroment (although, he had to admit, the newly-weds' nest was far more comfortable and cosy then his "old bachelor's" room), but mostly because of the hosts' attitude towards him. Why did those people, all of a sudden, invite him to share their meal in memory of his "best enemy", and , moreover, were now treating him…so friendly?!
As far as he remembered himself, Javert has always been on his own. Solitude was his shield, his second skin, clinging to him like his old great-coat. He was so much used to it, that couldn't imagine things being different, and now, sitting at the large table in the midst of the Pontmercy family, felt like an oyster taken out of its shell. And, really, taken out of shell he was! Still, while he was shifting the remains of the notorious pancake around the plate, Javert wondered whether it was necessary to take old habits into his new life. Perhaps, "strange" and "different" didn't mean "wrong" anymore. Perhaps it was not by chance that he got there…His glance fell on the silver candlesticks on the table and suddenly a warm feeling has grown withing his soul and wahsed away all doubts and bitterness. "Yes, it's Jean Valjean himself present here, " he mused. "Even after death he continues to spread his influence around…"
Suddenly he got aware that everyone else at the table stopped talking and were now looking at him. It dawned on Javert that the hosts were waiting for him to say something about the deceased.
Like Valjean, Javert was a man of action, not of words. He was no speaker, especially when "metaphysics" were concerned. However, it would be rude to say nothing at all, with everyone looking directly at him, and so he stood up, more slowly, than usual, and once more ignored the lump in his throat.
" I am not sure I have the right to speak about…about the deceased…", he started hesitatingly (which was almost unheard of ). Words just refused to come out of his mouth.
"Inspector , of all of us present here you are the one who has known M. Jean the longest…", Marius tried to fill the awkward pause, and obviously doing a poor job of it.
Javert cringed but didn't gave the young lawer (whom he personally would never hire) any of his usual snarky comments.
"Known him, you say, M. le Baron? No, I cannot be so self-assured as to claim I have known him! Known him, really! Is there even a single person here who has a right to say that he or she truly knew Jean Valjean? "
Everyone kept silence, even Gavroche, who was until that moment occupied mostly with the food, as if trying to compensate his hard childhood.
Javert, suddenly realising that he has gone too far, paused as well.
"I…I beg your pardon, I am not really much of a speaker, but all I wanted to say was that Jean Valjean was indeed a man too great for be discussed in a small talk. You, M. Marius, have just said that I have known him longer than the rest of you, and it might be true in one aspect, but did I really know him? I have been chasing him for almost twenty years, I might as well have been his shadow, but all my assumptions about him were wrong. I believed him to be a dangerous criminal, and he turned out to be a saint. I loathed him, while he respected me. I dreamt of putting him back in jail, and he …(Javert flinched at the memory)…he saved my life, nay, he turned down my world topsy-turvy and gave me a new life. He was a great man, that's all I can say about him. That's about all."
Javert sank back into his seat and emptied his glass of wine in one gulp, looking exhausted as if he had just crossed the English Channel on his own.
"Yes, Inspector, I think you are right", said Maruis, looking rather humbled. " I believe, no one truly knew M. Jean, no one but God. At one time, just after the wedding, I'm afraid I , too, have wronged him…"
"Yeah, brother Maruis," , Gavroche at last found his voice, "Acted like an ungrateful pig, that you really did!"
" Gentlemen, please don't quarrel!", Cosette implored. "I, for my part, was often ungrateful and unfeeling and foolish either. But Papa, as M. Javert has just said, was a great man, and he never held grudges. He often told me that every man is God's image, and that we should learn to look past the exterior. He loved people, and love covers multitude of sins. Even now, the very fact that we , being so different, are present here, under one roof and at the same table, is not a coincidence. I firmly believe that Father wanted to bring us together for some reason. You know", she was now looking at Javert, who was obviously lost in thought, " Papa often told me that it is not right for a man to be alone….it's even written in the Scriptures…"
"….That's why…", all of a sudden Gavroche interceded, "we have discussed it between ourselves and decided to…"
With that prase, the boy quickly ducked under the table and soon appeared again, carrying something big, white and fluffy.
"Take it, it's yours now!", he announced to the Inspector, dropping his burden to the unsuspecting guest's knees.
"M-mine?!" was all that the flabbergusted Javert managed to utter, while the being in question was examininig his cravate and sideburns. "And what, pray, is this?"
"Not a "what", but a "who", actually, " answered the boy nonchalantly. "A dog. A Pyrenian mastiffe. It's a puppy from our own Chou-Chou, in fact."
" A dog", Javert echoed, numbly staring at the puppy, whose attention now turned to the inspector's plate.
"Oh , no, don't feed him from your own plate, or he'll get used to it!", Cosette chided, quickly returning the impertinent puppy back to the floor, "Cadeau, stop acting like a bad boy!"
"Is Cadeau its name, then?" Javert was still stunned, "A present?!"
"Yes, it is, indeed.", the young woman gave him a small smile. " We have been keeping him for a while, and he couldn't go nameless."
"T-thank you", Javert finally uttered, while Cadeau, who, too, was overwhelmed with new impressions, has fallen asleep on his boots. "But, you know…I never owned a dog.."
"No big deal, Inspector", Gavroche waved a hand , nearly overturning a plate of fruit on the table. "'Tis a shepherd's dog, and they are easy to keep and clever as hell, you know!"
"Language, Gavroche!", Marius reproached , "you should have said "very clever", or "surprisingly clever" !
"All right, all right, bro!", was the boy's answer.
