A Promise

Chapter Thirty-Nine

I limped through the crowded streets of Paris, not knowing where exactly to go. My hair was a rat's nest, my clothes were filthy and in tatters, I was so thin that my bones protruded, but despite of all that, I didn't care what I looked like. I only had one care in the world, and that was to find Enjolras. I had no idea where to start, but I continued walking, hoping that I would find some clue along the way. I attracted many stares from passers-by, which I had expected. What I didn't expect was that these stares were not wrought with contempt and disgust. Instead, the bourgeois who passed by me gave me looks of pity and sorrow. Wait, did they actually feel bad for me? That was a new concept. Ten years ago, the bourgeois would have treated me like the dirt beneath their feet. Now, however, the bourgeois seemed to feel compassion for me. Did this mean that the June Rebellion really had made a difference? A few of the bourgeoisie even offered me handfuls of change, which I accepted graciously. I was starving and couldn't wait to have a bite of fresh food. After ten years of moldy bread and chicken bones, a sweet, juicy apple sounded very good to me.

I walked up to a street vendor and picked up a piece of fruit, my mouth watering. I handed him a coin, but he declined. "Keep it, Mademoiselle," he said kindly.

"But, Monsieur, I can pay for it," I protested, offering him the coins I had just received from the bourgeoisie.

"I insist, Mademoiselle," the man said. "Think of it as a gift."

"Thank you so much, Monsieur," I said gratefully.

"My pleasure," the man said. I turned away and was about to take a bite of the crisp apple when I heard the man call out to me.

"Mademoiselle!" he said. I turned back towards him.

"Oui, Monsieur?" I asked.

"If you need anything- money or clothes- I know a great charity that can help you."

"Thank you, Monsieur, but I am in a hurry to find... an old friend. I haven't got time to accept any more charity," I replied.

"All right, Mademoiselle, if you insist," the man said with a shrug. "But if you ever need anything, just look for a man named Enjolras. He's always willing to help the poor."

I turned to the man sharply, my heart pounding. "Did you say Enjolras?" I asked, unable to believe my ears.

"Yes, Mademoiselle. He's a great philanthropist, and a very kind man as well."

"Where might I find this man?" I asked, my voice urgent.

"He lives at number 56 Rue Plumet," the man said. "It's down over-"

"I know where it is," I said with a slight smile. "I haven't been here for years, but I know my way around."

"Well, in that case, Mademoiselle, I wish you the best of luck."

"Thank you, Monsieur," I replied. "You have just helped me more than you could possibly know."

With that, I raced off towards Rue Plumet. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me down the familiar streets. I knew exactly where I was going because I had been there once before, when I had tracked down Cosette for Marius. It seemed that Enjolras was living next door to Cosette's house. Come to think of it, it was probably both Cosette and Marius' house now. The couple had most likely gotten married after the revolution. It made me smile to know that even after all the horror the revolution had brought, there was still such a thing as love in the world.

I continued to run through the streets, my useless ankle dragging on the ground. I felt light-headed and dizzy. My body, famished and weak from so many years of torture in prison, was not strong enough to handle this sudden burst of energy. I ignored my fatigue and continued to persevere on. I hardly watched where I was going as I rushed past the crowds. Suddenly, I slammed into a tall man with thinning hair and a round face.