The other insurgents are being pushed back by the army swarming over the barricade. Most of them have taken refuge inside the wine shop. A sudden thundering threat imposes a cease-fire. Marius is standing on top of the wall with a torch in his hand, ready to put it to a powder keg. "Go away," he cries, "or I'll blow up the barricade." The soldiers who are scrambling on the barricade, impressed by his earnestness, retreat in disorderly haste.
The joy of the besieged is dampened by a sobering discovery. Jean Prouvaire, one of their bravest comrades, has been made prisoner. Combeferre suggests that Jean be exchanged for Javert. The plan proves futile, however: no sooner has Combeferre stopped speaking than a vibrant voice cries, "Long live France! Long live the future!" followed by the report of a rifle. Jean Prouvaire has been executed.
While everybody's attention is engaged by the main barricade, Marius decides to inspect the small one, which is completely deserted. He is about to return to his comrades when a weak voice calls, "Monsieur Marius!" He is startled because he recognizes the voice: it is the same one which that morning had called him to the barricades. Shocked, Marius discovers Eponine crawling toward him. She has a wound in her hand, for she was the worker who deflected the bullet aimed at him. But she also has a mortal wound in her body, for she took the full impact of the shot. Marius takes her head in his lap and listens to her pathetic confession, her happiness at finding him at the supreme moment, her jealousy that made her lure him to the barricade in the hope of his death, her change of heart that saved his life at the last moment. She also tells him that she is Gavroche's sister and that she has a letter for Marius.
After Eponine dies, Marius gently kisses her on the forehead as he has promised. He enters the inn to open the letter she has given him, for he feels the impropriety of reading it beside her body. It is a note from Cosette informing him of her departure from the Rue Plumet. He is momentarily elated by this proof of love, but only momentarily since the possibility of their marriage remains as remote as ever. He resigns himself once more to death and makes his last dispositions. He writes a note to Cosette to be delivered by Gavroche. This way he will kill two birds with one stone: assure his sweetheart of his love and save the urchin. Then he leaves instructions to have his body delivered to his grandfather.
Gavroche, afraid he will miss the great encounter, is reluctant to accept the errand. He undertakes it only because he intends to return immediately rather than wait until the next day as Marius has suggested.
On June 4, just before the insurrection, Valjean moves to his retreat in the Rue de l'Homme Armé. So deep is his alarm that he overrides Cosette's unprecedented objections. Once installed in his new quarters, he feels reassured, for the Rue de l'Homme Armé is located in an obscure and neglected neighborhood. Cosette, on the other hand, is deeply distraught. She spends the day in her room and appears only for dinner. Then, pleading a headache, she leaves the table.
Cosette's chagrin does not disturb Valjean's tranquility. He is in an optimistic mood and has radiant visions of renewed happiness in England. A heartbreaking discovery shatters his dream. On the table there is a mirror that reflects Cosette's blotter and rights its inverted message: Cosette's letter to Marius. At first, Valjean refuses to accept the evidence, but the message remains inexorably in the mirror.
Now he who has never yielded to temptation feels himself weakening, for the supreme test is the loss of one's beloved. The voice of the devil is particularly insistent, well-nigh irresistible, when love is concentrated in one person, when one single being is the object of an affection usually divided among brother, mother, and wife, and when a stranger threatens to destroy that love. Jean Valjean, in the tragic despair of old age, succumbs to hatred and goes to sit on the doorstep and contemplate the depth of his misfortune.
There Gavroche finds him, and, touched as always by the radiance of childhood, Valjean engages him in conversation. He hands him some money and indulgently allows him to break a few streetlights. Then with a little lie he persuades the urchin to hand him Marius' letter and tell him where Marius is. Gavroche disappears into the night, breaking another streetlight by way of goodbye.
Gripped by an overwhelming emotion, Valjean hurries to his room and reads Marius' words: "I am dying. When you read this my soul will he near you." His first reaction is an ugly feeling of triumph, of exultation at fate's convenient solution to his problem. But the mood quickly subsides and an hour later he makes his way to the Halles in the uniform of the National Guard.
Returning to his post, Gavroche is singing a love song with unquenchable good humor. On the way he spots a drunken man sleeping it off in a cart, and he requisitions the vehicle for the revolution. He deposits its occupant on the pavement and leaves him a receipt in the name of the Republic. Unfortunately his triumphal march is also very noisy and attracts the attention of a sergeant of the National Guard. Gavroche favors him with a few choice insults and shoves the cart into his stomach. The soldier falls, his gun goes off, and his comrades, rushing to his rescue, fire wildly in all directions for the next fifteen minutes. From a safe distance, Gavroche enjoys his handiwork, then goes on his way with a disrespectful gesture and a farewell song.
