The Gros-Boiteux was instantly silent.
"I take the bargain off your hands; you will concede to me Germain's skin, and I'll flay him alive. I am not called the Skeleton for nothing. I am dead-alive, my grave is dug, and I run no risk in working for the stone jug. The informers destroy us faster than the police; they put noses of La Force into La Roquette, and the noses of La Roquette in the Conciergerie, and they think themselves safe. Now, mind you, when each prison shall have killed its informer, no matter when he may have informed, that will take away the others' appetite. I will set the example, and let others follow it."
All the prisoners, admiring the Skeleton's resolution, closed around him. Barbillon himself, instead of remaining near the door, joined the group, and did not perceive another prisoner, who had entered the room. This individual, clothed in a gray blouse, and wearing a blue cotton cap with a red worsted border, pulled down over his eyes, started as he heard the name of Germain mentioned, and then, mingling with the Skeleton's admirers, gave out loud tones of approbation at the deadly determination of the prévôt.
"What an out-and-outer the Skeleton is!" said one.
"The devil himself is a fool to him!"
"This here's what I call a man!"
"If all were like him, wouldn't the flats be afeard?"
"He'll do a real service to the stone jug, and when they see this, the noses will look blue."
"And no mistake!"
"And since the Skeleton is safe to suffer, why, it'll cost him nothing to put a nose out of joint!"