Chapter III

Gabrielle was no longer allowed to take the children outdoors. Cholera was spreading through the city, and the baron wanted his children as minimally exposed as possible. As the days grew warmer, the children became more irritable, having to sit inside the stuffy rooms for lessons and for play time. The baron didn't even want them going into the garden, and Gabrielle had to cede to his wishes, even if she thought he was a little too overzealous. She hadn't been able to do much of anything lately, either; even her own writing was forgotten, stuffed under her pillow. She had sent her brother a brief note, apologizing for her absence and urging for news, but so far, there had been no reply.

Of course, not even the fear of cholera could keep the baron from having a dinner party, however, and Gabrielle was instructed to have the children ready to make an appearance sharply at seven o'clock. Louisa would recite her Italian and play the piano. Just the thought of it made the little girl quake with fear, for she hated being the center of attention, and Gabrielle tried to re-assure her.

"Louisa, you are so good at the piano! You will dazzle them. And your Italian? It is flawless, my love."

Louisa's lip trembled. "What if I make a mistake? Hit a false note?"

Gabrielle knelt down and took the little girl's hands. "If you make a mistake, you simply keep going. Everyone makes mistakes, Louisa. No one is perfect."

"But I will get too scared and forget my place..."

"Well...then if you make a mistake, you must simply count to ten, very slowly, in your mind. And think of nothing else but the counting. And then, when you've counted to ten, take a deep breath and keep going. Can you try that for me?"

Louisa nodded, still looking doubtful, and Gabrielle stood up, straightening her dress. She gestured Armand forward and down the stairs and took Louisa's hand. The dinner guests were in the parlour, and Gabrielle and the children entered promptly at seven, just as the baron had requested. She ushered Louisa forward and faded into a corner, sitting demurely on a chair. None of the guests took notice of her.

Louisa recited her Italian flawlessly and answered polite questions about her studies from some of the ladies before sitting at the piano. She played slowly and a bit clumsily, but didn't make any major mistakes, and her wide smile at the end almost made Gabrielle forget her place and cheer. Louisa retreated to her side once she was finished, and Armand sat near his father, listening to his conversation with the other men.

Gabrielle wondered when the baron would excuse them, but her ears perked up when she caught their conversation.

"It seems that the cholera has not just brought disease to the city," an elderly gentleman commented disdainfully, "but now I am hearing talk of riots. Will the people never be satisfied with what they have?"

"General Lamarque has them up in arms with his illness," the baron said. "He is popular with the people. The king should beware or we will have another successful uprising on our hands. I have contemplated leaving the city for the summer..."

Gabrielle winced. If the baron left, then she would have to leave, too. She would miss all of the excitement. If the baron and the rest of the bourgeois were speaking of the possibility of uprisings, then surely it would happen soon.

"Ha! Do not let them chase you out of the city. Stay where you are, the trash on the street will soon be silenced. The king will not stand for this."

"I hear they want a revolution," Armand suddenly spoke and Gabrielle froze, praying that he would say nothing else.

The baron smiled sardonically at his son. "And where do you hear this, Armand?"

"I pay attention," Armand said confidently. "I may have even heard a man give a speech about it once!"

Several of the ladies had stopped their conversation and were listening to the men. They looked scandalized at Armand's comments and the baron was trying very hard to control his temper.

"Is that so?" he asked quietly. "That certainly did not happen on my watch." He never looked at Gabrielle, but she could feel his accusation from across the room. "I think, children, it is past your bedtime. Now excuse yourselves and make your way upstairs."

Armand glared, but obeyed, and bid the guests goodnight. Gabrielle followed the children, her heart pounding. She knew Armand hadn't meant anything by his remarks, but the baron had her in his sights now. There were only so many people who were ever in the company of his children.

When they entered the nursery, Armand turned to her. "I didn't say your name, Mademoiselle Feuilly. I made sure of that. I don't want to get you in trouble."

Gabrielle forced a smile and patted his shoulder, then turned sober. "It's alright, Armand. But your father certainly wasn't happy, and I wouldn't mention this to him again. This is a very serious matter..." Gabrielle trailed off. She knew she wouldn't be able to make a nine year old child understand the gravity of the situation, so there was really no point in trying.

He nodded and shrugged. Gabrielle bid goodnight to the children as their nurse came in and retreated to her own bedroom. She sat in a chair by the window and looked out at the still night. For the first time, she was beginning to feel nervous.

In two days, both of the children were sick with cholera, despite all of the baron's strict precautions. Gabrielle was not allowed contact with them and was worried incessantly for their well being. She had nothing to do without their lessons to occupy her time, and hadn't seen her brother in what felt like ages. Her anxiety had continued to climb, along with the temperatures in the city. There was a rising tide of discontent it seemed that everyone sensed, like Paris was holding its breath waiting for the first blow to fall. Gabrielle left the baron's house in the afternoon of May 31st and walked to her brother's shop, which she was surprised to find empty and closed. That was unusual, and worrisome.

She slowly wandered the streets, hoping to hear some sort of news or find a familiar face, but after an hour, nothing had turned up. She turned onto the Rue de la Chanvrerie off of the Rue Saint-Denis and walked towards the Café Musain. The upstairs window was open and she could see the room was crowded with men. She caught sight of Prouvaire through the window and went into the café and up the stairs.

The men had just arrived, and there were many faces Gabrielle didn't recognize. She squeezed through the crowd, hardly any of them even giving her a second glance, and suddenly felt hands on her arms. "Gabrielle! I was just coming to see you."

She turned to look into her brother's face. He was grinning widely and seemed excited. He pulled her into a less crowded corner and spoke. "We've just had a rally in front of General Lamarque's home. It seems he has taken a turn for the worst. The whole city seems ready to rally." Feuilly was animated, his eyes twinkling and his voice louder than normal.

"So the time is coming soon, then?" Gabrielle asked, surprised at the edge of fear she heard in her voice.

"Yes, I believe so...Enjolras says he is waiting for a sign, a decisive moment that will tell him we are ready to take up arms and fight."

"What sort of sign?"

Feuilly shrugged. "I do not know. I think the men in this room would fight right now, though, were he to ask. Except Grantaire." Gabrielle followed Feuilly's eyes over her shoulder and noticed Monsieur Grantaire slumped over in a chair, snoring loudly. "How can he sleep through this?" He turned his attention back to Gabrielle. "How is it you are able to be here on a Thursday afternoon?"

"Both of the children are sick with the cholera. They came down with it yesterday," she replied. "I'm worried, but I needed to find out the news."

Feuilly clicked his tongue sympathetically. "That is awful...but I am sure they are being cared for by the best doctors that money can buy."

Gabrielle agreed and jumped when a sudden shout went up through the crowd. She turned around to see Enjolras standing on a chair, his hand in the air calling for silence. It took a minute, but the men's fervor finally died down a bit as they waited to hear what he had to say.

"We have been told that General Lamarque is ill," he began softly, and Gabrielle strained to hear. "Thousands throughout the city are sick with cholera. No one is there to care for them. Walk through the streets of Saint Michel and see the bodies being carried away. It is a crime against humanity, my brothers, that the poor are stuck here to rot while the rich are free to escape the plague of the city, running away to the fresh air. Running away from the rising anger they feel from us." The men cheered and Enjolras took a breath, his chest heaving with emotion. He was in his element, the marble lover of liberty, beautiful and terrifying all at once.

"Time has a price we cannot afford! The walls we build close in, my brothers! Will you let yourself be distracted by the glittering jewels of the bourgeois, by the beating drums, and the glare of the sun on our backs? In your heart, do you feel fear? Do you cower away from the bright light of revolution, of liberty, or do you strain towards it, ever reaching and hopeful? It is time for us all to decide who we are, to stand, to rise! The world is on fire, my friends, and we will blaze with it, sweeping that fire through the streets of Paris, through France, and leaving behind a free land in its wake!"

Gabrielle took her brother's arm as the crowd surged forward, and he put his arm around her shoulders. "Perhaps you shouldn't be here?" He practically had to yell in her ear to be heard.

"Where else would I be, Alexandre?" She grinned, feeling invigorated. "This is an exciting time!"

Her brother introduced her to some of their newer recruits, including a handsome young man named Marius Pontmercy who had joined their cause in recent months. Gabrielle could tell he came from money by his rich clothing, though her brother claimed her had renounced his family's wealth and wouldn't take a cent from them, living in a broken down tenement somewhere. Gabrielle felt impressed by his dedication.

As the evening wore on, the crowd eventually died out, and Feuilly left to walk his sister home.

She promised to come back when she could, and they parted outside the front gate.

As soon as Gabrielle entered through the servant's door in the back, she could sense something was wrong. The air felt heavy and the house too quiet, and she immediately felt an uneasy lump form in her stomach. She cautiously walked through the house and stopped in front of the parlour door, which was firmly closed. It was never closed. She heard footsteps behind her and turned. The children's nursemaid was just coming down the stairs, her eyes red and heavy from crying.

"What has happened?" Gabrielle whispered.

The nurse held a handkerchief to her eyes and dabbed. "Mademoiselle Louisa has gone home to God," she said softly, and burst out into a fresh fit of tears.

Gabrielle took a step back, her hand flying to her mouth. She had never expected...had never thought...

The nurse passed by her and Gabrielle stood frozen. She wasn't sure how long she stood in the hallway, but her trance was finally broken by the clock striking eight times, and she moved in a daze upstairs to her bedroom. She laid down on her bed fully clothed, her eyes painfully dry, and tried to fathom why a merciful God would take an innocent little girl. Eventually, she fell into a fitful sleep.

When she awoke the next morning, the house was still eerily quiet. Everyone had entered into mourning, and Gabrielle wondered if Armand had survived the night. She desperately hoped he had.

She rose and freshened up before descending the stairs. There was absolutely no one around, and the parlour door was still firmly closed. Gabrielle wondered if the baron had shut himself up in the room with his daughter's body, and her thoughts were confirmed when she entered the kitchen, where she also learned that Armand was still clinging to life.

She didn't feel right leaving the house, and wandered back upstairs to her bedroom, where she spent the day in a melancholy spirit, staring out of the window listlessly. The energy that had invaded her body yesterday at the Café Musain had drained out of her at the news of Louisa's death. She only went back downstairs for a late supper, and to see if anything else had happened today out on the streets.

When she entered the kitchen, the cooks were gossiping quietly at the table and Gabrielle fixed her own small supper. Before she went back upstairs, she asked softly, "Have you heard news today? Has anything happened in the city?"

They stopped their conversation and one said sadly, "Yes, Mademoiselle. General Lamarque died this afternoon. We heard the news from the butler next door, who heard it from their errand boy earlier this evening."

Gabrielle froze, her blood turning to ice. "General Lamarque is dead?"

The ladies nodded, and one said timidly, "Are you alright, Mademoiselle? You look as if you've suddenly seen a ghost..."

"My brother," she said without thinking, "he will be ready to fight..." She realized what she had just let slip out and stopped, biting her lip. You stupid girl! She shouted in her head. How could you tell them that? Soon every servant on the street will know!

The cooks didn't respond and Gabrielle quickly went back upstairs, where she hastily ate her dinner. She debated on whether or not to go to the café, but finally decided it was worth the risk. What if the fighting began tomorrow and she didn't have time to speak to her brother first? God, what if I never see him again? She wondered, suddenly horrified. The reality was finally sinking in, and Gabrielle hurried from the house, hailing a fiacre to take her to the Musain.

She ran up the stairs breathlessly and burst into the room. There were arms and ammunition everywhere, the men loading muskets and pistols and looking like they were having a perfectly normal good time.

"Mademoiselle Feuilly?" Enjolras appeared at her side.

"Hello, Monsieur," Gabrielle turned and managed a small smile. "I see your revolution is finally beginning."

Enjolras seemed to grow taller as he took a breath and rolled his sleeves up. "At last." He paused for a moment, then took her arm and led her back downstairs. "Your brother is down here this evening, Mademoiselle, if he is still here...he talked of going to find you earlier."

As they descended the stairs, Gabrielle scanned the room and saw her brother in the corner. "Alexandre!"

Feuilly looked up and saw his sister, a warm smile spreading across his face. "I was wondering if we would see you here tonight." He frowned as he took in Gabrielle's expression. "Come, Gabrielle, what is wrong? You aren't suddenly afraid of our revolution, are you? You, who wanted to fight with us before?"

"Of course I am afraid. Any sensible person would be. And..." she swallowed around the lump in her throat. "Louisa de Sauveterre is dead."

Her brother's face fell and he quickly reached out and pulled her into a hug. "I'm so sorry, Gabrielle. That is horrible news, to hear of one so young being taken so soon."

"I'm very sorry to hear that as well, Gabrielle." Gabrielle raised her eyes to see Enjolras still standing with them. "The cholera is taking many victims this year."

Gabrielle forced a smile. "Thank you both. I am fine, really, just sad. And worried, if I must admit it."

"This is where I must leave you," Enjolras said. "It has been a pleasure as always, Gabrielle."

"Good night, Antoine." Gabrielle watched him go back up the stairs and then turned back to find her brother gazing at her in disbelief. "What?" she asked innocently.

"Did you just call him Antoine?"

"That is his name, is it not?"

Feuilly cleared his throat and said nothing for a moment, then took her hand and began leading her to the door. "Let us talk outside Gabrielle, away from this crowd and noise."

Once they were outside, Feuilly turned to face her and took a deep breath. "Gabrielle, I don't quite know what to say...the fight is going to begin in a few days..."

"When?"

"At General Lamarque's funeral. That's when Enjolras has it planned."

"Oh." Gabrielle nodded and steeled herself. "When will it be?"

"June 5th. Just a few days. And we're going to be quite busy until then, Gabrielle, and..." he hesitated, as if knowing she was going to protest, "I think you should stay away from here on out." He held up a hand as she opened her mouth to argue and said gently, "Please, Gabrielle, listen."

She closed her mouth and nodded tersely, staring at the ground.

"I know you spoke to Enjolras about fighting with us, I remember, and I didn't take it seriously at the time, though I wouldn't really put it past you. Please promise me, Gabrielle, that you will not come here. I don't even want you to leave the house until all of this is over."

She raised her eyes, pleading with him. "And what about you? I am just supposed to sit back and wait and wonder while my only family is..." she couldn't finish the thought.

"You have to," Feuilly said quietly. "I need to know you are safe. I have fought to give you a better life, and I do not want you throwing it away for my sake."

"I wouldn't be throwing it away. I would be fighting for the same reasons you are!"

"Still." Feuilly sighed and said seriously, "I have already made Enjolras promise not to let you near anyway. He agreed with me, so there is no use going to him to try to intercede."

Gabrielle frowned. "It will kill me to not know what is happening to you."

"And if I die, I die knowing you are safe, which means I die happy." Feuilly smiled and took her hands.

Gabrielle's eyes filled with tears. "Please don't talk of dying. What would I do without you?"

Feuilly reached up and brushed her tears away. "You will be fine. You are smart and resourceful. You are beautiful. You will find every happiness, Gabrielle." She suddenly felt a small purse being thrust into her hands. "Here, take this. This is all the money I have saved."

"No, Alexandre, that is too final. You are already talking like a condemned man!" She pushed it back at him, but he firmly held her hand closed around it.

"Then you are keeping it safe for me until everything is over," he said softly. "Please take it, Gabrielle."

She nodded slowly and swiped at her tears. She hated crying. "Alright."

Feuilly took a deep breath, fighting emotion himself, and pulled her gently to him. He kissed the top of her head and said softly, "You are the most wonderful sister a man could ask for. And now you need to go."

Gabrielle could hear the emotion in his voice, and she knew he didn't want her to see him cry. She nodded and reached up, kissing his cheek gently. "I love you, Alexandre. Please stay safe for me."

He squeezed her hands and pulled away, looking at her for a lingering moment before turning and going back into the café. Gabrielle watched until he disappeared and then slowly turned, her steps echoing in the empty street. She looked over her shoulder to see the lights of Musain burning brightly on the pavement. Enjolras stood in the window on the second floor, his arms crossed over his chest, and watched her go. Their eyes met and he raised a hand in a silent goodbye. She managed a small smile before turning away again. Good luck, Monsieur...

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