"If this is not an indignity! Must a man be a scoundrel?" resumed this
gentleman with the pretty voice. "Nothing in the world would have made me
suspect Jobert."
"I know that he informed against you," answered the Skeleton, who seemed to
patronize this prisoner particularly. "The proof is, that they have done
with him as they did with Bras-Rouge; they did not dare leave Jobert here;
they locked him up at the Conciergerie. Well, this must be put a stop to:
we must have an example. Our traitor brothers carve out work for the
police. They think they are sure of their necks because they are put in a
different prison from those they have betrayed."
"It is the truth."
"To prevent this, every prisoner must look upon all turncoats as deadly
enemies: if they have blown on Tony, Dick, or Harry, it matters not which
pounce on them. When we have done the job for four or five in the court,
the others will wag their tongues twice before they blow the gaff!"
"You are right," said Nicholas; "Germain must die!"
"He shall die," answered the provost; "but let us wait until Big Cripple
comes. When he shall have proved to everybody that" Germain is a spy,
enough said: the sheep will bleat no more; his breath shall be stopped."
"And what shall we do with the warders, who watch us!" asked the prisoner
whom the Skeleton called Ja-votte.
"I have my own idea. Pique-Vinaigre shall serve us.
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