"Make haste," said Gueulemer, "the police may pass."
The ventriloquial voice hummed,—
"Nous n'sommes pas le jour de l'an,
A bécoter papa, maman."
Éponine turned to the five bandits:—
"Why, that's Monsieur Brujon. Good-evening, Monsieur Babet; good-evening, Monsieur Claquesous. What, don't you know me, Monsieur Gueulemer? How are you, Montparnasse?"
"Yes, they know you," said Thénardier; "but now good-night, and be off; leave us alone."
"It is the hour of the foxes, and not of the chickens," said Montparnasse.
"Don't you see that we have work here?" Babet added.
Éponine took Montparnasse by the hand. "Mind," he said, "you will cut yourself, for I have an open knife."
"My dear Montparnasse," Éponine replied very gently, "confidence ought to be placed in people, and I am my father's daughter, perhaps. Monsieur Babet, Monsieur Gueulemer, I was ordered to examine into this affair."