A Necessary Venture
To say that the next few days were harrowing would have been an understatement. The four fugitives walked most of the way, now and then taking coaches whenever they were too tired to walk. They only stopped at inns to ask for bread; they found water in the streams or sometimes in wells. Half the time, they had to leave the road behind and plod through the brush whenever they caught sight of a patrol.
On the fifth morning as they passed through a thicket, Gilles sat down on a rock and pulled off his shoes. "The soles have fallen off," he said as he wiggled his toes.
Valjean lost no time in taking off his own boots. "Here, use these."
Gilles' eyes widened. "M'sieur Madeleine, I cannot!"
Valjean winced, whether it was from the boy's refusal or the use of his former name, no one could tell. "Just take them. You will need them more than I do."
Fantine shook her head. "It's still a long way from here to Paris. You will need those soon too, Monsieur Madeleine, no wait, it's Monsieur Valjean, isn't it?"
Valjean managed a rueful smile. "We have no other way, do we?"
"All this while we haven't had more than bread in a few days," Fantine said.
In the meantime, Cosette tugged on Fantine's skirt. "Maman, there are some people passing there," she said, pointing to the road.
"No, we can't go that way, petite," Fantine said.
"But they can give us more than bread! And shoes!" Cosette exclaimed.
Gilles gave Fantine and Valjean a weary look. "We could ask them. May we? Please?" he begged.
Valjean bowed his head. "Let us hope that they will help us," he said, but before he could move, Fantine had sprung forward.
The young woman dashed to the road, waving frantically at a cart being pulled by one old nag. "Monsieur! Some help!" she called to the skinny man holding the reins.
The man stared at Fantine with beady eyes. "What help, Mademoiselle?"
Fantine glanced back towards where Valjean, Cosette and Fantine were just coming out of the woods. "Some bread please. We have been walking for days. And if you have a pair of old shoes to spare, that would be fine as well," she said to the man.
A broad, ruddy faced woman peered out of the cart. "Now why are we tarrying, Nicolas?" she asked her husband sharply.
"She stopped us there, Paulette," the man said, gesturing to Fantine. He smiled at the travelers. "Forgive my wife. She was busy attending to our children, and she did not see you coming."
The formidable looking woman now looked at the other travelers. "And who are you?" she asked.
Valjean cleared his throat. "I'm called Urbain Fabre," he said.
"Is she your wife?" Nicolas asked.
Valjean shook his head. "My daughter. Her name is Fantine. She has her daughter here too, named Cosette."
"And the boy?" Paulette asked.
Gilles glanced at Valjean. "He's my grandfather too. Cosette is only my cousin, and Fantine my aunt."
"And where do you come from?" Nicolas pressed on, letting go of the reins.
"Faverolles!" Fantine cut in before anyone could say anything.
"My, that is a long way," Paulette said, her face taking on what would have been a kindly expression on someone else's visage. "You would want some bread, you said? Well, we can give you some, but not much. It's a long way to Paris."
"You are going there too?" Cosette piped up.
"Why, yes," Nicolas said just as a baby's cry came from within the wagon. "Paulette, mind your brat!"
"I'm sick of him! Won't he stop his crying?" his wife said as she turned to someone into the wagon. "Eponine my treasure, bring out one loaf for these travelers."
Fantine smiled as a small girl climbed out of the wagon holding a rather small loaf of bread with one arm, and her doll in the other. Her auburn hair was held back by a white ribbon, and her dress just as fancily trimmed as Cosette's was. "Thank you," Fantine said, accepting the loaf from the child.
"Maman, look at her doll," Cosette whispered, glancing at the much-worn out toy that Eponine was holding. "It's a little lady."
Eponine looked at Cosette with an expression of surprise. "A lady?" she laughed. "No, no, she's my little girl, they are always like this nowadays."
"You want to play?" another girl, about a year younger, called as she joined her sister.
"Eponine, Azelma--" Paulette began resignedly.
"Let them play," her husband said in a low voice. He turned to Fantine and Valjean, who were dividing the loaf into four. "Paris, so you say?"
"Yes," Valjean said, watching as Gilles scarfed down his portion. "Where have you come from, Monsieur…"
"Thenardier. Nicolas as the church knows me," the man said. "I have been making my fortunes since Waterloo, in the south."
Fantine nodded even as she appraised the older Thenardiers' clothing; it was clean but clearly falling into rags. "You fought there?"
"Yes, but received no commendation for it," Nicolas said. "Well, that is why we are striking for the city. You do not know misfortune, Monsieur, and Madame, till you are reduced to only this cart. And my children to feed too."
"I can help you once we get to Paris," Valjean said gravely.
At this, Thenardier's expression softened. "Perhaps you should come with us for a bit of the way, at least till we can come to an arrangement. It will be a snug fit in the cart, but certainly we can manage among ladies and gentlemen."
Paulette got out of the cart. "Girls, we must get going now," she said to her daughters.
Eponine, Azelma, and Cosette looked up at Paulette. "Now?" Eponine said.
"You can play in the cart," her mother said. "They are coming with us for a time."
Azelma smiled at Cosette. "You'd better not wake up our little brother," she said, putting her finger to her lips.
Cosette gave a nod of assent as she followed Azelma into the cart. Fantine sighed as she watched this scene. "You have a good family, Madame," she said to Paulette.
"Sometimes," the older woman muttered under her breath as she let the other travelers join her family in the cart.