He hears the man long before he sees him, and the realization that he's climbing up to the parapets to walk draws a quiet, bitter laugh to his lips.  This place has a cruel sensibility to it, one that makes him think his nemesis might have a hand in its machinations. It's not enough to drive him from his refuge. In fact, he doesn't move at all.

Before Javert can get too close, he calls out, his voice whole now. His rich baritone feels like it should belong to someone else. The words come out languid and bored, all pride and vanity struck through with a vein of sorrow.

'Stop. No, that's not right,' he mutters, chuckling under his breath. 'Halt. Who goes there?'