The second time Marius came to the house on the Rue Plumet, he was wearing his tricolor cockade-rosette. Éponine followed him again, this time without his knowledge, and decided to linger. It was painful, of course, but somehow it wasn't as painful as the alternative.

"Marius, that is quite a stylish brooch you have there," Cosette commented, eyeing the badge as he approached the gate. Marius resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Had she really never seen a rosette before? Of course not, he reminded himself; for her father had walled her off from the real world ever since she had been born. He smiled at her awkwardly.

"It's a symbol of the- " He broke off, suddenly afraid that he was about to reveal too much. What if Cosette's father was a monarchist like Gillenormand, unsympathetic to the revolution? What if he called the National Guard to arrest him? He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Can you keep a secret?"

"It's no secret," Cosette said, smiling. "You and your friends gather all around Paris. You clearly have nothing to fear or hide."

"It's a symbol of the revolution," Marius told her, whispering anyway. "I'm in a group of students, mostly law students like myself, who are planning an uprising against the government. We call ourselves the Friends of the Abased. We wear rosettes to show our pride, patriotism and dedication to the cause." Here he paused. "As you must have heard, General Lamarque is ill with cholera, and will die any day now. When he does, we plan to take to the streets during his funeral procession and build barricades all over the city."

"Again? Didn't the students build barricades just two years ago?"

"Yes, but this revolution will be even more glorious. Louis-Phillippe is not the 'people's monarch' that he claims to be. There is no such thing as a 'people's monarch'. There will be no peace or justice in France until there is democracy. This is my chance to do something for my country, to honor the name of my father, the Colonel Baron Georges Pontmercy."

"Marius, that sounds very dangerous," Cosette said with worry. "What if you are killed on the barricade? I don't think I could bear to have you torn from me so soon after we finally met."

Marius felt a pang of guilt, but he quickly swallowed it, remembering Enjolras' words at the last meeting. "I took a vow that I would join my friends on the barricade," he said, "and I intend to stand by that promise even if it costs me my life. A wise man told me today that our little lives don't count at all, and I realized that he was right. I wear the rosette to show my loyalty to my friends, as a way to solidify my oath."

Cosette shifted uncomfortably on the marble bench. She wasn't sure that she could handle Marius' devotion to his cause, for she was used to having undivided male attention from her father. But her father had never just had her, she realized, but God as well. In fact, sometimes she would grow jealous and impatient whenever her father knelt down to pray, because she did not like the idea of him depending on anyone else but her. How was that different from Marius' situation? The cause was his God and his friends were his congregation. Just as Papa was willing to die for God and for what he thought was right, so was Marius at the disposal of a larger ideal. She did not know if Marius' cause was truly worth dying for as he said, but she gave him the benefit of the doubt.

"H- how did you become involved in this cause of yours?" Cosette asked hesitantly.

"After I left my grandfather, I went in search of something to believe in," he told her. "My best friend at the time, Courfeyrac, introduced me to the Friends of the ABC, and ever since then they have been like my family, my brothers. They speak so passionately about progress and equality and a brighter future for the lower classes. And I knew that my duty was the same as theirs." He paused awkwardly, searching for more words, something to convince this sheltered angel that the cause was right and just. "I know that you are a kind, compassionate girl; I have seen you giving alms to beggars on the street. You look upon them without derision or fear. They are exactly the kind of people we are fighting for." Éponine held her breath. He was thinking of her, she was sure of it!

"If I am as you have said, it is because my father raised me to be so," said Cosette. "He is a wonderful man, Marius. He has such love for everyone, even the lowliest urchins. It's almost as if he can feel their pain and sorrow every time he looks into their eyes."

"I know that you or I could never possibly understand the struggles of the destitute within this city," said Marius. "But I have lived in a hovel for over two years now, of my own free will, and my next door neighbors the Jondrettes are the poorest people you can possibly imagine. In fact, their daughter Éponine was the one who brought me here."

Éponine's heart raced wildly. Not only was he thinking about her when he was with his beloved Cosette, but he was telling her what a wonderful person she was! He, a handsome baron, was praising her, a petty thief, and Cosette was lapping it up! She was so enraptured by this display that she momentarily forgot that Cosette was bound to have other opinions on her saintliness. She could only pray that the girl's memory was not as good as her own.

"Éponine," said Cosette thoughtfully, and Éponine's heart fell. "That name sounds vaguely familiar."

"It is an unusual name, one that would be found only among the lower classes," Marius said. "A poor mother would give her daughter that name in order to seem romantic."

"It's probably just my imagination," Cosette said, laughing airily. "Silly me! I don't know any other girls except for the ones I grew up with in the convent."

Éponine's face fell. She had thought this remark would bring her relief, but it only made her feel even more unimportant and forgettable. Even the girl she had bullied for years couldn't remember her name. Part of her almost wished that Cosette would shake Marius by the shoulders and say, "Oh, Éponine is the meanest girl in the entire world! Never associate with her again!". Then, at least, she would feel worth something.

"It's a pretty name, though," Cosette continued. "Éponine. I wish I had a name like that. It's so lyrical, like a heroine of Greek and Roman mythology."

"Oh no, Cosette is a much prettier name than Éponine," Marius said vehemently, taking her hand. Éponine felt like her insides were falling apart. "It fits you perfectly. Don't ever wish for a different name, Cosette. Not Euphrasie, or Éponine, or anything else that starts with an E."

"If you say so, Marius," said Cosette weakly. "But I think that someone named Éponine could be beautiful, in a very different way."

"Perhaps she could be," said Marius thoughtfully. "But she is not."

"That doesn't make any sense," said Cosette. "If someone is beautiful, it always shines through, whether she is wearing riches or rags."

"Not always, Cosette," said Marius sadly. "You have much to learn about the world if you think that is true."

"You would not think me ugly if I were dressed in rags, would you?"

"Of course not, Cosette," said Marius. "You could never be ugly. I'm sure you never were- " He gulped, remembering that he had considered her ugly less than two years ago, when she was still anatomically speaking a child.

"All the sisters thought I was going to grow up to be plain," said Cosette, reminiscing. "They told my father, and it seemed to bring him comfort. I don't know why." She looked into his eyes pleadingly. "Marius, why would any father want his daughter to grow up ugly? My father is not a cruel man; he loves me dearly, as I love him. So I can't imagine- "

"He wanted you to be ugly so that no man would ever fall in love with you and take you away from him," Marius answered matter-of-factly. "As you can see, the nuns were wrong. You were too beautiful to be kept locked a way in a convent for the rest of your life. It was a sin to hide you there in the first place. I suspect that the nuns fairly knew the truth but lied to your father to give him false hope."

"I don't believe that," said Cosette firmly. "Papa would never be that selfish. All he's ever wanted is what's best for me. My happiness. It was his decision to leave the convent and bring me into the city."

"Do you see any other explanation for why he would want you to be ugly?"

Cosette shook her head. "No."

"Then it's settled." Marius held out his rosette to her. "I shall nickname this rosette 'Cosette'," he said. "When I go into battle, I will have a token of you, something to remember you by. If I should fall, I will die with you right over my heart."

"Oh no, Marius, don't say that," said Cosette desperately. "Let me give you something that I own to take with you. A piece of jewelry, perhaps- " She got off the bench and headed into the house. Marius grabbed her arm to restrain her.

"No, Cosette. I won't allow you to give up even one piece of your beautiful jewelry for my sake. It would only be lost, or broken, or stolen by some scavengers in exchange for money."

"A lock of my hair, then. Do you have a pocket-knife?"

Marius nodded. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his switchblade. Slowly, reverently, he lifted the blade to one of her ringlets which she untied and held out for him. He panicked, terrified of accidentally cutting her.

"Let me do it," she said, sensing his worry.

"Your father will notice," Marius said.

"No, he won't. Not if you just take a tiny bit in the back." She turned around and bared the nape of her neck, causing Marius' face to turn white with the fear that his hand would slip and he would accidentally kill her. Carefully, he lifted the blade and nipped off just a few tiny hairs off the end of one of her curls. He sighed heavily with relief when no red stain blossomed upon her ivory neck.

"I almost couldn't do it," he confessed to her once he had stuffed the hair in his pocket. "I almost couldn't deprive you of one single hair on your head. But you insisted."

"Now you must give me something of yours to remember you by," Cosette told him. "For good luck."

Marius searched his person. "I don't have any jewelry or anything of value," he said. "Well, that's not quite true. I have my father's gold ring. But I'd really rather keep that... It's very important to me."

"Your rosette, then," Cosette said.

"Cosette, are you sure? It's just a piece of cloth. It won't yield any value."

"A flag is just a piece of cloth," Cosette pointed out. "Did you really think that I would ever try to exchange your rosette for money? I have plenty of money already. Your rosette is far more valuable to me than gold."

"It's too dangerous," said Marius, putting his hand over his cockade and turning away. "What if your father sees it? Or Toussaint? They'll not only know that you've been seeing a man, but that he's a radical revolutionary and that you are sympathetic to his cause."

"Of course I'm sympathetic to your cause, Marius," Cosette said, scandalized. "I'd never be ashamed to admit that."

"My only concern is for your safety," said Marius. "I could never in good conscience allow you to be compromised in any way.

"Oh, here," said Cosette, changing the subject. "Take this and give it to your friend Éponine. I'll write a note so that the police will know it wasn't stolen." She rotated her necklace so that the clasp was in front and struggled to undo it in the dim lantern light.

"Oh, no, Cosette, that is far too valuable! Your father- "

"My father is a generous man, Marius. He would understand. I have many more." Finally she unfastened the clasp and handed the string of pearls to him.

"Cosette, you don't understand. Éponine's father is a dangerous man. If he finds out that you've been giving his daughter charity, he may come to rob your house again."

"So then don't tell her where the necklace came from," said Cosette casually.

"She'll know. And she won't be able to keep it from him."

"He tried to rob us before and it didn't work. Why should another time be any different?"

"He will hurt her," Marius said. "She will be in danger- more danger than she is already in constantly." Éponine almost smiled, that Marius had thought to take such precautions for her. Then she reminded herself that he didn't care.

"A father would never hurt his daughter," Cosette insisted.

"Éponine's father would."

"Well, you must give her something," said Cosette. "Why can't you just tell her to run away so that she won't ever have to face him again?"

"He'll find her. He'll beat her mercilessly. Even if he doesn't, she'll probably end up becoming a prostitute and starving to death in some godforsaken arrondissement."

Éponine shuddered. She had thought about running away, before she met Marius. She knew her prospects were bleak, but she had never heard it articulated quite so clearly. Now she was determined to escape- but in a different way. A more... permanent way.

"Marius," Cosette said, leaning in and lowering her voice to a whisper, "send her to this house tomorrow night. My father might be willing to hide her from- "

"Cosette, no! It's far too dangerous for you and your father. I'm sure he'd never agree to it."

"I think he might," Cosette went on in a whisper. "He has put himself in danger before for strangers."

"I will not hear of it," said Marius, holding up a hand. "When the revolution succeeds, all the poor will have a better life. Éponine and her parents will never have to steal again to survive. Just a few days more, and they shall all be free."

"I want to do something," Cosette pouted. "I hate being a woman, stuck at home all day. If I were a man, I could go to school, try to improve the world along with you and your friends. Oh, if only I had been born a man! then Papa would never tolerate cooping me up like this."

"Do you truly wish you were a man, Cosette?" Marius asked.

Cosette nodded. "It's all I ever wished for after I left the convent. Freedom. I could handle it. My papa doesn't think so, but I could, really. If only I had the chance to prove it to him!"

"You would be free with me," said Marius.

"It's not the same. It's the kind of freedom a man allows to a woman, but it's not real freedom."

"I had no idea you felt that way," said Marius, muttering. "Do other women feel that way?"

"I don't know," said Cosette. "I've never really talked to another woman about anything besides religion or meals."

"Here," said Marius, unclipping his rosette. "You need something of mine in exchange for your lock of hair. I'm sure my friends will understand." He kissed her chastely on the cheek. "I'm so sorry, Cosette. You deserve to be with a man who doesn't have this duty to fight, to die for his country. I hope that you will find that man someday."

"I don't want that man," said Cosette, weeping. "I could never admire or respect him. I want you."

"Goodbye, Cosette," said Marius, getting up from the bench. "We will meet again someday." They held hands for what seemed like forever, staring deep into each others' eyes which were glistening with tears. Finally Marius broke the contact and headed for the gate.

"Tell your friend Éponine that she is welcome in my house at any time," called Cosette as he unlatched the gate. "And please- you must give her something of mine. I insist."

"She is very proud," said Marius, trying to deter her one last time. "I doubt she would take it."

"Give it to her anyway." Cosette removed one sparkling pearl from her necklace. "Here. This should be easy to hide."

Éponine stared at the beautiful pearl. Why, that would get her enough food for a month! If she had been planning on living another month, she thought bitterly. She wanted to hate Cosette for her obscene wealth in comparison to her own dire poverty, but she couldn't hate her due to her generosity. She'd just leave the pearl for Azelma.

"Thank you, Cosette," said Marius. "I will."

Marius left the garden and stepped back out into the street. On his way, his shoulder brushed that of Éponine. He nearly screamed, startled by her shadowy presence. She clamped a hand over his mouth, out of instinct.

"Éponine," he said nervously. "H- How long have you been here?"

"The whole time," she said honestly.

"How much did you hear?"

"Everything."

"So you know that this pearl is for you," said Marius awkwardly, handing her Cosette's token. "Find somewhere to exchange it for money. Don't tell anyone that you have it or where you got it. You understand?"

"Yes, M'sieur." Éponine nodded as Marius disappeared down the alley into the night.

"Éponine!" Cosette called out over the fence, spotting the bony figure silhouetted in moonlight. "Stay safe, will you?"

"I- I'll try, Mad'moiselle," Éponine said nervously.

"Good night," said Cosette. "And please, if it isn't too much trouble... protect Marius."

"I was planning to, Mad'moiselle," said Éponine. "He'll need it. I have enough trouble protecting myself, but Marius is my very best friend. He doesn't want to be protected. Between you and me, he's a bit... "

"Reckless? Careless? Thoughtless?"

Éponine nodded. "Yes. All of those."

"Men," said Cosette, as if it were an inside joke. "They think of others so much when they're thinking of themselves." She looked down at Éponine's hand. "Are you sure you wouldn't like another pearl?"

"Maybe one more," said Éponine, swallowing her pride. "I'd like to see that my sister's taken care of."

Cosette reached for her necklace again and removed the biggest pearl from its center, spilling the rest of them onto the ground. "Oh no, I've ruined it!" she cried, trying to pick up the scattered pearls. "Here, take as many as you want. Take them all."

Éponine scooped up a handful of pearls while Cosette struggled to repair the necklace in the dark, pulling off the clasp and stringing the pearls back onto it in an asymmetrical mess. If Jondrette saw all these pearls, Azelma would have to deal with his wrath, not her. She'd be gone, and Marius would as well.

She slinked down the cobblestones like a feral cat until she was consumed by darkness. It was a small comfort to her that the couple's last words to each other had been about her.