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.
