Epilogue N2, for the "Mesalliance Team" ( "canonists" are warned!)
Timeline – several years after Epilogue N1
"Monsieur l'Inspecteur, let me fill your plate, if you please! The pastry turned out perfectly, thank God, just as young Master liked it…"
"Thank you, Toussaint, but don't exert yourself. I am capable of serving myself, thanks."
And so it happenes again, and the sense of déjà vu doesn't leave him, as he is sitting again at the same great table, like eight years before, when he first stepped into this hospitable house to pay tribute to his "best enemy". And the pancakes, like then, are served again. "It really becomes a tradition, and not a good one, " he thinks with bitter irony. And he, Emile Javert, is again a "man in black". First Valjean, then (last year) old M. Gillenormand, and now, quite unexpectedly, his grandson, "young master" Marius Pontmercy, whom he, surprisingly, in years gone by, came to regard as a close acquaintance, if not a friend. Thirty years old is rather too early to meet the Eternity, Javert muses, especially for such a stupid, absurd cause as pneumonia, but then (his thoughts switch to the Friends of the ABC), Enjolras was about twenty-five years old, and most his comrades-in-arms were even younger than that. But those students,at least, believed that they were dying for the Right Cause….
He, however, albeit no longer young ('never thought I'd live up to the age of sixty, my word!'), and in spite of his frequent narrow escapes, is still among the living, and even still trying to fulfill his duty. He has long outgone his rank's age limit, but the new Prefect, like his predecessor, pretends not to notice that fact, and every year tries to convice Javert to get promoted to the comissionary's post, and each time the Inspector politely but firmly declines the promotion.
In his department they call him "an eternal inspector" behind his back, and sometimes even in his presence . "There's no such thing, gentlemen, every inspector dies at some point", he usually retorts with mild sarcasm. Those who are hostile towards him, surprisingly few nowadays, nicknamed him "Javert The Immortal" ( "Hope not as a tribute to that hideous skeletal evil warlock from the "Fairy Tales from All Over the World" that Jeanne-Emilie has read quicker than I did", he adds to himself). What country was that scary tale from, by the way? Russia, I guess…(here he shivers, as if again feeling the ruthless winter cold, like many years ago, back in 1812 during the Grand Army's retreat from the mysterious country that even Buonaparte failed to conquer).
Unlike in earlier period of his career, Javert is now more respected than feared and the number of his enemies has diminished considerably, alongside with a surprising (at least for himself) rise of number of lower-ranked officers who claim to – something unheard of- admire him and try (not very successfully) to copy his methods and sometimes even his mannerisms. A mentor for youngsters, indeed! When did it all start, Javert fails to remember. He had always been too busy to notice such trivialities. But then…even his change of attire (the old great coat was really old! and that new black leather one just came in handy) provoked a new wave of well-meant jokes ("The Dark Knight, my word! "), most certainly inspired by none other than Gavroche. No, not just Gavroche, the impertinent ex- street urchin, but Sgt. Detroismaisons now (well, while Javert could understand the boy's reluctance to use his birth surname, he snorted at the mere length of that weird alias).
Gavroche and the police force…Enjolras would roll in his grave if he were to hear about it…But nevertheless, the boy's craving for fighting and justice (or fighting for justice) didn't disappear with years, nor did his loyality to both the Inspector and his dog, and that loyality could be surpassed only by that of little (not so very little anymore, he reminds himself, she has just turned seven) Jeanne-Emilie Pontmercy…
"Godfather, am I an orphan now?"
A pair of big blue eyes is looking at him with heart-wrenching, almost unbearable trust.
"No, Jeanne, you aren't . You have still got your mother and younger brother and Gavroche…and..well, you have got me either."
"You will never be alone, Alouette. Your childhood won't be like that of your mother or like my own. Lord will remove this bitter cup from you."
"Yes, but who will be the head of our family? Now, when Papa is with God, and Grandpa Luc too, and Grandpa Jean has already been in Heaven for so long, I can't even remember, as I wasn't born yet… Oh, I guess I know! It will be you, Godfather!"
"Me?!" The girl's bold observation managed to catch Javert unawares, which was next to impossible. 'But why?!"
"But of course it will be you", his goddaughter went on, "You are grown-up, and a man, and you are alive! And Mama won't manange it on her own, she needs a man'support, and Georges-Luc is still a wee little whelp…"
"Jeanne-Emilie Pontmercy! Who taught you such words? Communicating too much with Uncle Gavroche, I see…I will give him a piece of my mind! You are a lady ,and a future Baroness…"
"No, Uncle Emile, it's my brother who's going to be a Baron when he grows up. And I will become a travelling princess, taming dragons…."
" I already feel pity for those dragons!"
"…and rescueing knights who got themselves in trouble"
"Isn't it supposed to be the other way round , Jeanne?"
" Well, some knights are very lonely and certainly need help. And I don't need to be rescued, I can defend myself, and Mama and Georges-Luc to, until he is grown-up, you know!"
"Of course I know, since it was I who taught you!"
"…You know what, Uncle Emile? Why don't you come and live here with us? I think it will be better for everyone, and Cadeau won't be alone when you are at sevrice. And I can…Oh, Godfather, you turned so awfully pale, just like that poor knight from the book! Hold on, I'll run to the kitchen to get you something…"ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
"Oh, words cannot express how I hate that stupid old bitch!", were the cheerful words of Sergeant Detroismaisons (or simply Gavroche), when he entered – no, rushed into the unsuspecting Inspector's doors on a Friday evening.
"No shouting or swearing on my territory , Sergeant!" Javert barked, too surprised to be really angry. " Calm yourself instantly and tell what's the matter – in normal language!"
"Well, Inspector, I don't know how to tell about it without swearing, " Gavroche closed the doors and heavily plunged into the old chair, which loudly protested against such poor treatment. "That's all about that nosy old maid, Mlle Gillenormand, Marius' aunt. You see, she's put into her head to settle in a convent, the death of both her dad and nephew being too much for her and so on…"
"And what of it? Not a rare decision for middle-aged spinster…"
"…But on the verge of her taking leave, she thought it her duty to preach to us about what's proper and what not! Like, now that Cosette is a widow, it's improper for her to live under the same roof with a single young man – that's me, you see! – who isn't blood-related to her, so she insisted that I have either to marry Cosette – the nerve of that woman! – or to seek other living quarters! And of course she doesn't bloo…"
"I said no swearing!"
"…she doesn't care a pin that Cosette is like a sister to me, and I will only EVER be her brother, and that Nicole and I have already settled the wedding date for the end of the year, when the mourning is over and I turn twenty-one, and that we've been in love with each other since school – what's all that to her?! She 'll be redeeming herself in that quiet little nunnery, and all of us, due to her, are in a complete ars…I mean , in a complete mess! " He took off his headware and threw it into the room's corner in frustration .(The aforesaid room , we must observe, has seen him as a guest at most different hours of day or night in the years gone by).
" So it's all about you and your love life now, isn't it?", Javert sneered, suddenly getting angry. "And not a word about Euphraise, to whom you owe a life debt, in case you forgot, and who is now widowed and left on her own with two children and no experience in managing the accounts or any ideas what to do with the Gillenormand's legacy? Some good brother you are, Sergeant, whining about the unfairiness of life, while she, on the contrary, doesn't allow herself to wallow in self-pity!" It didn't occur to him that his anger wasn't towards Gavroche, but towards the dubious society opinion, for which Cosette will always be an oddity, no matter what.
"You know what, Comrade Inspector?", Gavroshe was suddenly struck with a crazy, but awesome idea. "I reckon it'd be better for everyone if you just go and marry Cosette yourself! " He even got up fronm the chair, amazed by his epiphany.
"Are you delirious, stupid brat?" Javert's ire could only match his utter surprise. "Do you even know how old I am?!"
"Well, being lower ranked than you and still a freshman in the police, I didn't have the chance to check your passport, Comrade Inspector, " Gavroche now spoke quieter, but more seriously than usual. " But I don't really care. And I reckon Cosette and kids don't care either. Honestly, M'sieur , I wouldn't trust any other guy who'd dare to approach my sister. But as for you, I can be certain you won't ever betray her . You are the man who can be trusted and relied on, and you are one of us. Oh, " the youngster suddenly rushed to take his leave " I reckon I'd better be going now. Well, see you soon, Inspector, and consider words, s'il vous plait!", and, having snatched the maltreated bicorn from the corner, the young gendarme was gone a second sooner than the Inspector's cane hit the door closed behind Javert's impertinent self-appointed apprentice.
Overwhelmed by the heated intercourse, Javert sank into the same old chair Gavroche just left. For the first time he felt all his sixty years, and perhaps even older, burden of responsibility suddenly growing almost unbearable upon his shoulders.
