Memoirs of Les Amis de l'ABC

Chapter Twenty-One: The Apology

Sybill Fauchelevent felt as if the pins placed in her hair might soon damage her scalp if a single one slipped from its secured place. Despite priding herself in never frivolously dressing for the day, this day proved itself an anomaly for its utmost importance. Today, she and her father planned to enact a scheme the two concocted in order for Sybill to interview the good General Jean Maximilien Lamarque for her essays. Sybill arduously agonized over her hair and her dress for hours to ensure her appearance seemed in every way suitable for a lady of renown.

"Where is Cosette?" her father's voice inquired from the kitchen through her open bedroom door.

"She took Little Gavroche to a park for the day," replied Sybill as she debated adding more rogue to her cheeks. "I explained to her that the two of us would be running errands all about the town today therefore she should seek alternative forms of entertainment for the day."

"A smart response," remarked Valjean. Sybill smiled at his comment while Valjean contemplated whether or not the plan the pair devised would work. He studied the notebook of questions Sybill needed answered and attempted to commit them to memory for the sake of their device.

Sybill smoothed out her emerald dress and traced the bodice with her fingertips. Whenever she wore this particular, extravagant garment, she felt herself transition into a powerful goddess of old who was capable of miracles. She spun around in the dress several times for good measure which brought a childish grin to her features. She selected a pair of fashionable shoes that Cosette often wore for the purpose of the day. Sybill checked her basket for her essential items: a journal, a copy of each of her essays, and a fountain pen for note-taking during the interview. Sybill felt herself grow utterly excited at the prospect of interviewing such an important political figure while simultaneously feeling a certain anxiety for the scheme she and her father devised to fool the man.

Sybill exited her bedroom and began to walk towards the kitchen when a soft rap on the door echoed throughout the house. Valjean and Sybill remained motionless at its sound. Since Sybill, Cosette, and Valjean had moved into the household, never before had a visitor been so bold as to open the door. Sybill recalled her conversation with Courfeyrac from several days earlier when the man explained that the National Guard had begun searching door-to-door for the insubordinate author of the treasonous pamphlets. Sybill's eyes locked with Valjean's. She identified a look of utter panic in his yet wondered at the cause. Sybill knew her father feared strangers, but his reaction seemed suspicious. 

"I suppose I shall fetch the door," remarked Sybill solemnly with a leaden heart.

Valjean nodded in response before quickly filing away to his bedroom. Sybill thought his behavior curious but made no comment on it for she now imagined the National Guard staring at her from the other side of the door, demanding to know if she knew of the treasonous writings of Monsieur Amon Y. Mercier.

With great trepidation, Sybill opened the front door only to stare into a set of piercing, icy blue eyes. Before her, Enjolras stood with a folded note clutched in his hands. His expression appeared one riddled with anxiety and regret. His hair appeared unkempt, his coat showed an ink stain on the bottom of the right sleeve, his trousers appeared startlingly similar to the set he wore upon their last meeting yesterday afternoon, and his boots were caked with dirt from the streets. There was sweat upon his brow, and Sybill realized he must have walked the way quickly or even ran it from wherever he lived.

"Monsieur?" questioned Sybill with a tone conveying her disbelief. "How have you come here?"

Sybill stepped outside of her home and shut the door behind her to prevent her father from seeing the tall man before her. She crashed into Enjorlas who awkwardly backed up to accommodate the woman.