It is Christmas Eve at Montfermeil. At the Thénardier inn, the husband is drinking with the customers and the wife is supervising the meal. Cosette is at her usual place, huddled under the table near the chimney. Ragged and barelegged in her wooden shoes, she is knitting woolen socks for Eponine and Azelma, the Thénardier daughters. Upstairs, a new Thénardier baby, a boy, is wailing, but his mother detests him and pays no attention.
Cosette muses somberly as she knits. Four travelers have arrived unexpectedly, and she has had to fill their pitcher with water. That means the supply is probably exhausted, a situation fraught with anxiety for Cosette. She may have to go out in the black of night to fill the pail at the distant spring. Unfortunately, her worst fears are realized. A traveling salesman furiously complains that his horse has not been given anything to drink, and Mme. Thénardier consequently orders Cosette to bring back water. As an afterthought, she hands her a coin to buy a loaf of bread.
The beginning of the trip is relatively reassuring since the center of the town is filled with carnival stands whose candles give off a protective light. It even holds a brief and poignant pleasure: One of the shops contains a magnificent doll, which Cosette contemplates for a moment in delirious admiration.
