The Minotaur pauses, struck by the question; so does Grantaire, whose eyes glint cynically in the light of the torch.

Faint hope that Enjolras would ever keep himself out of danger! -- but through Grantaire's mind may be sodden, he's not entirely a fool. If Enjolras has decided to exercise his charisma, there's nothing Grantaire can do at this point to help, and a great deal to hinder that most dangerous of weapons. Resigned, he takes a step to the side and leans against the wall of the labyrinth, arms folded (looking, if it must be admitted, slightly sulky. He'll get over it soon enough; the prospect of seeing Enjolras charm a minotaur proves to be vastly entertaining.)