urred to him that he ought not to die now. Then
he said to himself: "She is going away. Her father is taking her to
England, and my grandfather refuses his consent to the marriage. Nothing
is changed in our fates." Dreamers like Marius are subject to supreme
attacks of dejection, and desperate resolves are the result. The fatigue
of living is insupportable; death is sooner over with. Then he reflected
that he had still two duties to fulfil: to inform Cosette of his
death and send her a final farewell, and to save from the impending
catastrophe which was in preparation, that poor child, Eponine's brother
and Thenardier's son.

He had a pocket-book about him; the same one which had contained
the note-book in which he had inscribed so many thoughts of love for
Cosette. He tore out a leaf and wrote on it a few lines in pencil:--

"Our marriage was impossible. I asked my grandfather, he refused; I have
no fortune, neither hast thou. I hastened to thee, thou wert no longer
there. Thou knowest the promise that I gave thee, I shall keep it. I
die. I love thee. When thou readest this, my soul will be near thee, and
thou wilt smile."

Having nothing wherewith to seal this letter, he contented himself with
folding the paper in four, and added the address:--

"To Mademoiselle Cosette Fauchelevent, at M. Fauchelevent's, Rue de
l'Homme Arme, No. 7."

Having folded the letter, he stood in thought for a moment, drew out
his pocket-book again, opened it, and wrote, with the same pencil, these
four lines on the first page:--

"My name is Marius Pontmercy. Carry my body to my grandfather, M.
Gillenormand, Rue des Filles-du-Calvaire, No. 6, in the Marais."

He put his pocketbook back in his pocket, then he called Gavroche.

The gamin, at the sound of Marius' voice, ran up to him with his merry
and devoted air.

"Will you do something for me?"

"Anything," said Gavroche. "Good God! if it had not been for you, I
should have been done for."

"Do you see this letter?"

"Yes."

"Take it. Leave the barricade instantly" (Gavroche began to scratch his
ear uneasily) "and to-morrow morning, you will deliver it at its address
to Mademoiselle Cosette, at M. Fauchelevent's, Rue de l'Homme Arme, No.
7."

The heroic child replied

"Well, but! in the meanwhile the barricade will be taken, and I shall
not be there."

"The barricade will not be attacked until daybreak, according to all
appearances, and will not be taken before to-morro