In the meanwhile, the agents had caught sight of the drunken man asleep behind the door, and were shaking him:⁠—

He awoke, stammering:⁠—

“Is it all over, Jondrette?”

“Yes,” replied Javert.

The six pinioned ruffians were standing, and still preserved their spectral mien; all three besmeared with black, all three masked.

“Keep on your masks,” said Javert.

And passing them in review with a glance of a Frederick II at a Potsdam parade, he said to the three “chimney-builders”:⁠—

“Good day, Bigrenaille! good day, Brujon! good day, Deuxmilliards!”