“Monsieur Madeleine, save me!”

Jean Valjean⁠—we shall henceforth not speak of him otherwise⁠—had risen. He said to Fantine in the gentlest and calmest of voices:⁠—

“Be at ease; it is not for you that he is come.”

Then he addressed Javert, and said:⁠—

“I know what you want.”

Javert replied:⁠—

“Be quick about it!”

There lay in the inflection of voice which accompanied these words something indescribably fierce and frenzied. Javert did not say, “Be quick about it!” he said, “Bequiabouit.”

No orthography can do justice to the accent with which it was uttered: it was no longer a human word: it was a roar.