Grantaire was attacking his second bottle, and perhaps his second harangue, when a new head emerged from the staircase hatchway. It was a boy under ten years of age, ragged, very short and yellow, with a bull-dog face, a quick eye, and an enormous head of hair; he was dripping with wet, but seemed happy. The lad choosing without hesitating among the three, though he knew none of them, addressed Laigle of Meaux.
"Are you Monsieur Bossuet?" he asked.
"I am called so," Laigle replied; "what do you want?"
"A big blonde on the boulevard said to me, 'Do you know Mother Hucheloup's?' I said,' Yes, Rue Chanvrerie, the widow of the old buffer,' He says to me, 'Go there; you will find Monsieur Bossuet there, and say to him from me, A—B—C.' I suppose it's a trick played you, eh? He gave me ten sous."
"Joly, lend me ten sous," said Laigle; and turning to Grantaire, "Grantaire, lend me ten sous."
This made twenty sous, which Laigle gave the lad. "Thank you, sir," he said.
"What is your name?" Laigle asked.
"Navet, Gavroche's friend."
"Stay with us," Laigle said.
"Breakfast with us," Grantaire added.