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would be gone. Thenardier was panting on his wall like the
shipwrecked sufferers of the Meduse on their raft when they
beheld the vessel which had appeared in sight vanish on the
horizon.
He dared not call to them; a cry might be heard and ruin
everything. An idea occurred to him, a last idea, a flash of in-
spiration; he drew from his pocket the end of Brujon’s rope,
which he had detached from the chimney of the New Build-
ing, and flung it into the space enclosed by the fence.
This rope fell at their feet.
‘A widow,’[37] said Babet.
[37] Argot of the Temple.
‘My tortouse!’[38] said Brujon.
[38] Argot of the barriers.
‘The tavern-keeper is there,’ said Montparnasse.
They raised their eyes. Thenardier thrust out his head a
very little.
‘Quick!’ said Montparnasse, ‘have you the other end of
the rope, Brujon?’
‘ Ye s .’
‘Knot the two pieces together, we’ll fling him the rope,
he can fasten it to the wall, and he’ll have enough of it to get
down with.’
Thenardier ran the risk, and spoke:—
‘I am paralyzed with cold.’
‘We’ll warm you up.’
‘I can’t budge.’
‘Let yourself slide, we’ll catch you.’
‘My hands are benumbed.’