A Message Sent, News Given

"And you are sending this to M. Felix de Tholomyes?" the bespectacled letter-writer asked Fantine skeptically.

"Yes, Monsieur," Fantine said deferentially. "40 Rue Saint Clare in Toulouse," she added.

"I have gotten it right, Mademoiselle," the letter writer said in a patronizing voice. "I must say, you sound as if you want to complain more harshly."

"Surely telling him that I'm in a dire situation is bad enough," Fantine said to herself. She raised her eyes to catch the leering man's sneer. "Monsieur, I beg you, do not tell anyone else."

"The secret will die with me," the letter-writer said as he packed up his paper and shook his pen gingerly.

"Thank you, Monsieur," Fantine said as she got up from the tavern table and trudged back out into the street. It was already past six-thirty in the evening and a chilly wind blew through the town. Fantine stuck her hands in her sleeves for warmth as she walked back to the Feuillys' house.

"I need to give Cosette a wool skirt, even if she wants a doll so badly. By next week, I shall have enough saved for both," she daydreamed. "And if Felix replies..."

The memory of her former lover was enough to dispel the rosy thoughts in her mind. "It is just a desperate hope---hoping he can care for Cosette even if he has cast me aside," she muttered.

As she turned the corner into the narrow street, she saw what looked like a black shape headed in her direction. Fantine almost turned to flee before she realized it was a woman who was coming to speak to her.

"Bernadette? My God, did Monsieur Jerome---" she whispered before she caught sight of her friend's haggard face.

Bernadette nodded as she wiped at her bloodshot eyes. She blew her nose on her shabby black veil. "Just earlier this afternoon. I'm only running home to get some money to bury him," she said brokenly.

Fantine nodded as she felt Bernadette grab her arm for support. "I'm sorry, Bernadette."

The older woman nodded firmly. "Cosette is in the house, with Gilles. They've been waiting for you," she said.

"I'll just go in to greet them, and I'll help you out," Fantine said.

"Thank you," Bernadette murmured. "I have to speak with the cure, and beg him to give Jerome a good burial," she said before she continued on her way.

Fantine ran back to the small house, where she was greeted by Cosette grabbing her leg. "There, good evening, darling," she said as she lifted her daughter.

Gilles, who had been sitting in a corner, looked up at Fantine and Cosette. "Did you see my Maman?"

Fantine nodded consolingly. "I'm sorry."

Gilles nodded as his shoulders shook. "What will happen now?" he asked anxiously.

Fantine sat down beside the child, unsure what to say. "God will help us," she said quietly.

"God doesn't have need of my father. We need him more," Gilles muttered vehemently.

"Gilles, don't say that!" Fantine exclaimed.

The boy stood up and shrugged. "I think I'm going to have to take my father's place at work."

"You're so young!"

"Is there any other way?"

Fantine felt her argument die on her lips. "Maybe not," she said, looking around and back down at Cosette, who was beginning to doze off.