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The antique slang of the great century is no longer spo-
ken except in the Temple, and Babet was really the only
person who spoke it in all its purity. Had it not been for the
icicaille, Thenardier would not have recognized him, for he
had entirely changed his voice.
In the meanwhile, the third man had intervened.
‘There’s no hurry yet, let’s wait a bit. How do we know
that he doesn’t stand in need of us?’
By this, which was nothing but French, Thenardier rec-
ognized Montparnasse, who made it a point in his elegance
to understand all slangs and to speak none of them.
As for the fourth, he held his peace, but his huge shoul-
ders betrayed him. Thenardier did not hesitate. It was
Guelemer.
Brujon replied almost impetuously but still in a low
tone:—
‘What are you jabbering about? The tavern-keeper hasn’t
managed to cut his stick. He don’t tumble to the racket, that
he don’t! You have to be a pretty knowing cove to tear up
your shirt, cut up your sheet to make a rope, punch holes in
doors, get up false papers, make false keys, file your irons,
hang out your cord, hide yourself, and disguise yourself!
The old fellow hasn’t managed to play it, he doesn’t under-
stand how to work the business.’
Babet added, still in that classical slang which was spo-
ken by Poulailler and Cartouche, and which is to the bold,
new, highly colored and risky argot used by Brujon what the
language of Racine is to the language of Andre Chenier:—
‘Your tavern-keeper must have been nabbed in the act.