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Updated: June 18, 2025
Marius breathed freely in Courfeyrac's society, a decidedly new thing for him. Courfeyrac put no questions to him. He did not even think of such a thing. At that age, faces disclose everything on the spot. Words are superfluous. There are young men of whom it can be said that their countenances chatter. One looks at them and one knows them.
He was desperately in love. After dinner, he said to Courfeyrac: "I will treat you to the play." They went to the Porte-Sainte-Martin to see Frederick in l'Auberge des Adrets. Marius was enormously amused. At the same time, he had a redoubled attack of shyness.
The snow had redoubled in violence, and filled the air. Bossuet was just saying to Courfeyrac: "One would say, to see all these snow-flakes fall, that there was a plague of white butterflies in heaven." All at once, Bossuet caught sight of Marius coming up the street towards the barrier with a peculiar air. "Hold!" said Bossuet. "There's Marius." "I saw him," said Courfeyrac.
"He finds a way of not fighting in this barricade." "Which does not prevent him from defending it," responded Enjolras. "Heroism has its originals," resumed Combeferre. And Courfeyrac, who had overheard, added: "He is another sort from Father Mabeuf." One thing which must be noted is, that the fire which was battering the barricade hardly disturbed the interior.
"De Meaux," replied Laigle; "by metaphor, Bossuet." Courfeyrac entered the cab. "Coachman," said he, "hotel de la Porte-Saint-Jacques." And that very evening, Marius found himself installed in a chamber of the hotel de la Porte-Saint-Jacques side by side with Courfeyrac. In a few days, Marius had become Courfeyrac's friend. Youth is the season for prompt welding and the rapid healing of scars.
Enjolras had a double-barrelled hunting-gun, Combeferre the gun of a National Guard bearing the number of his legion, and in his belt, two pistols which his unbuttoned coat allowed to be seen, Jean Prouvaire an old cavalry musket, Bahorel a rifle; Courfeyrac was brandishing an unsheathed sword-cane. Feuilly, with a naked sword in his hand, marched at their head shouting: "Long live Poland!"
Therese gave birth to them, Jean-Jacques represented them as foundlings." And Enjolras addressed Courfeyrac roughly: "Silence in the presence of Jean-Jacques! I admire that man. He denied his own children, that may be; but he adopted the people." Not one of these young men articulated the word: The Emperor. Jean Prouvaire alone sometimes said Napoleon; all the others said "Bonaparte."
Moreover, he had seen wounded men passing the end of the street in litters, and he said to Courfeyrac: "Those wounded do not come from us." Their hope did not last long; the gleam was quickly eclipsed.
"Yes, Cosette." She took his head in both her hands, raising herself on tiptoe in order to be on a level with him, and tried to read his hope in his eyes. Marius resumed: "Now that I think of it, you ought to know my address: something might happen, one never knows; I live with that friend named Courfeyrac, Rue de la Verrerie, No. 16."
Marius liked this candid old man who saw himself gradually falling into the clutches of indigence, and who came to feel astonishment, little by little, without, however, being made melancholy by it. Marius met Courfeyrac and sought out M. Mabeuf. Very rarely, however; twice a month at most.
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