Lisette

Chapter 4 ~ The Saving of the Eagle of Words

The following day, I spent the morning in the Luxembourg gardens, and then went for lunch at the Café Musain with Courfeyrac. Enjolras had advanced me some money, and though he insisted there was no need for me to pay him back, I kept record of it in the back of my notebook so that when I had enough, I could repay him. Courfeyrac was pleasant enough company, and we talked of divers things, from the statues I had sketched in the gardens, to the professors and other students at the law school, to passers by through the window. As the afternoon wore on, I wandered outside to see Bossuet shout to a passing cab:

"Monsieur Marius Pontmercy!"

It was passing slowly, and stopped at the shout.

The young man within looked up.

"Eh?"

"You are Monsieur Marius Pontmercy?"

"Certainly."

"I was looking for you," said Bossuet.

"How so?" demanded Marius. "I do not know you."

"I don't know you either," responded Bossuet.

I could not help but wonder if Bossuet was playing some kind of a joke on the other young man - his name was clearly visible on a label on his luggage - it would have been easy enough to attract his attention. Perhaps this Marius thought so too, for he frowned at Bossuet, who continued: 

"You were not at the school day before yesterday."

"That is possible."

"That is certain."

"You are a student?" demanded Marius.

"Yes, sir. Like yourself. Day before yesterday, I chanced to drop in at the school. One has these whims. The professor was just calling the roll. As you know, they're particularly tiresome on such occasions. If you fail to answer after your name has been called three times, it is struck from the list, and that means sixty francs down the drain."

Marius now seemed to be listening with interest.

"It was Blondeau who was making the call. You know what he's like, with his pointed nose and spiteful nature. He delights in spotting absentees. He slyly began with the letter P, and I wasn't paying attention because that isn't my initial. It was going quite well - all were present and correct. Blondeau was grieved. I said to myself: 'Blondeau, my love, you will not get the very smallest sort of an execution to-day.' But then he calls, 'Marius Pontmercy!' No one answers. Blondeau, filled with hope, repeated it more loudly, and with still no reply he takes his pen. Monsieur, I have compassion. I said to myself hastily: 'Here's a good man about to be struck off, a living, breathing fellow mortal who is unpunctual. Not a good student. Not a lead-bottomed student who studies, a greenhorn pedant, bursting with art and letters, theology, science, and sapience, cut and dried to the pattern prescribed by the faculty. Here is an noble idler who enjoys life, who plays truant, who chases girls, who may at this very moment be in bed with my mistress. He must be saved! Death to Blondeau!' And so, when Blondeau, having dipped his pen in the ink and gazing with beady eyes around the assembly, repeated for the third time: 'Marius Pontmercy!' I replied: 'Present!' This is why you were not crossed off."

"Monsieur, I—" said Marius.

"But I was," added Bossuet.

"But why?" asked Marius.

"It's quite simple. I had answered near the desk, then I moved towards the door to slip away. But he was staring fixedly at me, and with diabolical cunning switched back to the letter L. L is my letter. I am from Meaux, and my name is Lesgle."

"L'Aigle!" interrupted Marius, "The Eagle! What fine name!"

"So Blondeau came to this fine name and I answered 'Present!' upon which , looking at me with a tigerish satisfaction, he smiles and says: 'If you are Pontmercy, you cannot be Laigle.' That said, he crossed me off."