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Updated: June 12, 2025
"If he does that," said le Biffon, "though I don't believe he is really God, he must certainly have smoked a pipe with old Scratch, as they say." "Didn't you hear him say, 'Old Scratch has cut me'?" said Fil-de-Soie. "Oh!" cried la Pouraille, "if only he would save my nut, what a time I would have with my whack of the shiners and the yellow boys I have stowed."
"Have Ruffard and Godet had their spree yet? Have they forked out any of the yellow boys?" asked Jacques Collin. "They dare not," replied la Pouraille. "The wretches are waiting till I am turned off. That is what my moll sent me word by la Biffe when she came to see le Biffon." "Very well; we will have their whack of money in twenty-four hours," said Jacques Collin.
Having spoken, the philosopher joined le Biffon and la Pouraille, and all three, greatly puzzled by the priest, walked down the yard, while Jacques Collin, lost in grief, came up it.
"Do what he bids you!" said Fil-de Soie. "You don't say so?" retorted la Pouraille, looking at his pal. "What a flat you are! You will be booked for the Abbaye!" said le Biffon. "You have no other door to budge, if you want to keep on your pins, to yam, wet your whistle, and fake to the end; you must take his orders." "That's all right," said la Pouraille.
Riganson, on very distant terms with the police from his earliest years, was nicknamed le Biffon. Biffon was the male of la Biffe for nothing is sacred to the swell-mob. These fiends respect nothing, neither the law nor religions, not even natural history, whose solemn nomenclature, it is seen, is parodied by them.
"By Jingo! Yes, it is Trompe-la-Mort," said le Biffon, rubbing his hands. "Yes, it is his cut, his build; but what has he done to himself? He looks quite different." "I know what he is up to!" cried Fil-de-Soie; "he has some plan in his head.
Fil-de-Soie, an egotistical philosopher, who thieved to provide for the future, was a good deal like Paccard, Jacques Collin's satellite, who had fled with Prudence Servien and the seven hundred and fifty thousand francs between them. He had no attachment, he condemned women, and loved no one but Fil-de-Soie. As to le Biffon, he derived his nickname from his connection with la Biffe.
"I mean to win his soul to heaven!" replied Jacques Collin fervently, seeing some other prisoners about him. And he joined the warder at the gate. "He got in to save Madeleine," said Fil-de-Soie. "We guessed rightly. What a boss he is!" "But how can he? Jack Ketch's men are waiting. He will not even see the kid," objected le Biffon. "The devil is on his side!" cried la Pouraille.
Jacques Collin felt sick, his knees almost failed him; but his three comrades held him up, and he had the presence of mind to clasp his hands with an expression of contrition. La Pouraille and le Biffon respectfully supported the sacrilegious Trompe-la-Mort, while Fil-de-Soie ran to a warder on guard at the gate leading to the parlor.
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