has issued a decree."
IC That is a pity ! " said Gringoire.
In the twinkling of an eye the priest had relapsed into
his former coldness and tranquillity.
" And," resumed the poet, tc who the devil has
amused himself with soliciting an order of restitution ?
Why could they not let the parliament alone ? What
harm is there in it if a poor girl does seek shelter among
the swallows' nests under the flying buttresses of Notre-
Dame."
" There are Satans in the world," rejoined the arch-
deacon.
" 'Tis infernally cross-grained !" observed Gringoire.
' ' Then she did save your life ? " resumed the archdea-
con, after a pause.
e: That was among my very good friends, the Vagabonds.
She came in the nick of time, or 1 should have been
hanged. They would have been sorry for it now."
" Will you then not try to do something for her?"
THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME. 353
n I desire no better, Dom Claude, but perhaps I may
get my own neck into an ugly noose ! "
" What signifies that ? "
" What signifies it ! You are exceedingly kind, master !
I have just begun two great works."
The priest struck his forehead. Notwithstanding the
composure which he affected, a violent gesture from time to
time betrayed his inward convulsions. " What can be
done to save her ? "
" Master," said Gringoire, ' ' I answer, II padelt, which
is Turkish for God is our hope."
" What can be done to save her ? " repeated Claude,
thoughtfully.
Gringoire, in his turn, struck his brow. " Hark ye,
master, I have no lack of imagination ; I will devise ex-
pedients. Suppose we solicit the king's pardon."
Pardon ! of Louis XI. !"
" Why not?"
" Take the bone from the hungry tiger."
Gringoire cast about for other expedients.
" Well, stop ! Shall we make declaration that the
girl is pregnant, and demand an examination of matrons ?"
The pupil of the priest's hollow eye sparkled. " Preg-
nant, dolt ! Knowest thou aught to that purpose ? "
His look alarmed Gringoire. " O no, not I ! " he
hastily replied. " Our marriage was literally forismarita-
gium for I was shut out. At any rate we should ob-
tain a respite."
iC Stupid oaf ! hold thy tongue ! "
" Nay, don't be angry," muttered Gringoire. " One
might obtain a respite; that would harm nobody, and
would put forty deniers parisis into the pockets of the ma-
trons, who are poor women."
The priest heard him not. " At any rate," he mut-
tered, ' ' she must away ! The order must be executed in
three days ! Besides, if there were no order, that Quasi-
modo ! Who can account for the depraved tastes of wo-
men !" Then raising his voice : " Master Pierre," said
he, " I have well weighed the matter : there is but one
way to save her."
A A
354 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
V And which ? I can see none for my part."
" Hark ye, Master Pierre ; recollect that to her you owe
your life. I will tell you frankly my idea. The church
is watched night and day : only such persons as have been
seen to enter are suffered to go out again. Of course you
would be allowed to go in. You must come, I will take
you to her. You must change clothes with her."
" So far, so good," observed the philosopher. " And
then?"
" Why then she will go away in your clothes, and you
will remain in hers. You will be hanged perhaps ; but
she will escape."
Gringoire rubbed his brow with a profoundly serious
look.
" I declare," said he, " that is an idea which would
never have come into my head of itself."
At this unlooked-for proposition of Dom Claude's, the
open and good-humoured countenance of the poet was
overcast, like a smiling landscape of Italy, when some un-
lucky blast dashes a cloud upon the sun.
' ' Well, Gringoire, what say you to this expedient ? "
<c I say, master, they will not hang me perhaps, but
they will hang me to a certainty."
(< That does not concern us."
** The deuce ! " exclaimed Gringoire.
' f She saved your life. You are only paying a debt."
( * How many of my debts besides that are unpaid !"
<f Master Pierre, you absolutely must comply."
The archdeacon spoke imperatively.
<( Hark ye, Dom Claude," replied the dismayed poet,
" you cling to this idea ; but you are quite wrong. I see
no reason why I should thrust my head into the halter in-
stead of another."
" What is there then that so strongly attaches you to
life?"
" Why, a thousand things."
" What are they ? I would ask."
" What are they ? The fresh air, the blue sky, morn-
ing and evening, the warm sunshine, and the moonlight,
my good friends the Vagabonds, our romps with the good-
THE HUNCHBACK OF XOTRE-DAME. 355
natured damr ds, the beautiful architectural works of Paris
to study, thrte thick books to write one of them against
the bishop and his mills and I know not what besides.
Anaxagoras said that he was in the world to admire the
sun. And then, I have the felicity to pass all my days
from morn to eventide with a man of genius, to wit my-
self, which is exceedingly agreeable."
" A head fit for a bell ! " muttered the archdeacon.
"Well, but tell me, who saved this life which is so charming
to thee ? To whom is it owing that thou yet breathest
this air, beholdest that sky, and canst amuse thy lark's
spirit with extravagances and follies? What wouldst
thou be but for her ? And yet thou canst suffer her to
die her, to whom thou owest thy life her, that beau-
tiful, lovely, adorable creature, almost as necessary to the
light of the world as the sun himself; whilst thou, half-
sage, half-madman, rough sketch of something or other, a
species of vegetable, who imaginest thou canst walk and
think, thou wilt continue to live with the life of which
thou hast robbed her, as useless as a candle at noonday !
Nay, nay, have some feeling, Gringoire : be generous in
thy turn. It was she who set the example."
The priest was warm. Gringoire listened to him at
first with a look of indecision ; presently he began to
soften, and at last he put on a tragic grimace, which made
his wan face look like that of a new-born infant which has
the colic.
" You are pathetic," said he, brushing away a tear :
w Well, I will think about it. 'T is a droll idea, this of
yours ! " Pausing awhile, he continued " After all,
who knows ! perhaps they will not hang me. Betrothal is
not always followed by marriage. When they find me up
yonder in the little cell, so grotesquely attired in cap and
petticoat, perhaps they will only laugh. And then, if
they do hang me, why, death by the halter is like any other
death, or, more correctly speaking, it is not like any other
death. It is a death worthy of the sage who has oscillated
all his life ; a death, which is neither fish nor flesh, like
the soul of the downright sceptic ; a death impressed all
ver with Pyrrhonism and hesitation, which holds the
AA JJ
356 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
middle place between heaven and earth, which leaves one
in suspense. It is a philosophic death, and perhaps I was
predestined to it. 'Tis magnificent to die as one has
lived."
The priest interrupted him. " Are we agreed ? "
f< After all, what is death ? " continued Gringoire, in
the warmth of his excitement. " An unpleasant moment,
a toll, a passage from little to nothing. When some one
asked Cercidas of Megalopolis if he should like to die
* Why not ? ' he replied, ' for, after death, I shall see
those great men, Pythagoras among the philosophers, He-
cataeus among the historians, Homer among the poets, and
Olympus among the musicians.' "
The archdeacon held out his hand. " It is settled, then ;
you will come to-morrow ? "
This gesture, and the question which accompanied it,
brought Gringoire back from his digression. " Beshrew
me, no ! " said he, in the tone of a man awakening from
sleep. " Be hanged ! too absurd ! I beg to be ex-
cused."
' : Farewell then ! " and the archdeacon added, mutter-
ing between his teeth, " I will find thee out again ! "
(i I don't wish that fellow to find me again," thought
Gringoire, running after Dom Claude. " Hold, Mr.
Archdeacon, no malice between old friends ! You take an
interest in that girl, my wife, I would say quite right !
You have devised a stratagem to withdraw her in safety
from Notre-Dame, but to me your expedient is extremely
disagreeable. A capital idea has just occurred to me. If
1 could propose a method of extricating her from the di-
lemma without entangling my own neck in the smallest
running noose whatever what would you say to it ?
would that satisfy you ? or must I absolutely be hanged
before you are content ? "
The priest tore off the buttons of his cassock with irri-
tation. " Eternal babbler ! what is thy proposal ? "
'* Yes," resumed Gringoire, talking to himself, and clap-
ping his fore-finger to his nose in the attitude of medi-
tation "that 'sit! She is a favourite with the dark
race. They will rise at the first word. Nothing easier
THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME. 357
A sudden attack. In the confusion, carry her away !
To-morrow night .... they will desire nothing better."
" Your proposal ! Let us hear ! " said the priest, shak-
ing him.
Gringoire turned majestically towards him. " Leave
me alone ! you see I am composing." Having considered
for a few moments longer, he clapped his hands in exult-
ation, exclaiming, " Admirable ! sure to succeed ! "
" But the means ? " enquired Claude, angrily. Grin-
goire's face beamed with triumph.
w Come hither, then, and lend me your ear. 'Tis a
right bold counter-mine, which will get all of us out of our
trouble. By heaven ! it must be confessed that I am no
fool."
He stopped short. " By the by, is the little goat with
the girl ? "
" Yes ! "
" They meant to have hanged her too did they not ?"
" What is that to me ? "
" Yes, they meant to hang her. Why, it was only last
month that they hanged a sow. The hangman likes that
he eats the meat afterwards. Hang my pretty Djali !
Poor, dear, little lamb ! "
" Malisons upon thee ! " cried Dom Claude. " Thou
thyself art the hangman. What means, dolt, hast thou
devised for saving her ? Must one tear thine idea from
thee with pincers ? "
" Gently, master, I will tell you."
Gringoire bent his lips to the archdeacon's ear, and
whispered very softly, at the same time casting an uneasy
look from one end of the street to the other, though not a
creature was passing. When he had finished, Dom Claude
grasped his hand, and said coldly, " Good ! to-morrow ?"
" To-morrow," repeated Gringoire. The archdeacon
retired one way, while he went the other, saying to himself,
in an under-tone, " A rare business this, Monsieur Pierre
Gringoire ! No matter 1 It shall not be said, that because
one is little one shrinks from great undertakings. Bito
carried a full-grown bull upon his shoulders : the wagtail,
the nightingale, the swallow, cross the ocean."
a a 3
358 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
CHAPTER II.
TURN VAGABOND.
The archdeacon, on his return to the cloisters, found his
brother Jehan waiting for him at the door of his cell. The
youth had amused himself, while waiting, by drawing with
a piece of charcoal upon the wall a profile of his elder bro-
ther, enriched with an enormous nose.
Dom Claude scarcely looked at Jehan : his thoughts
were otherwise engaged. The reckless, jovial countenance
of Jehan, the radiance of which had so often restored se-
renity to the gloomy physiognomy of the priest, was now
incapable of dispelling the mist which thickened daily over
his corrupt, mephitic, and stagnant soul.
" Brother," said Jehan, shyly, " I am come to see you."
" What then ? " replied the archdeacon, without so much
as lifting his eyes to him.
" Brother," resumed the young hypocrite, * you are so
kind to me, and give me such good advice, that I cannot
stay away from you."
" What then ?" repeated Dom Claude.
" Alas, brother ! you had great reason to say to me,
' Jehan, conduct yourself discreetly ; Jehan, attend to your
studies ; Jehan, pass not the night out of college, without
legitimate occasion and the leave of the master. Beat not
the Picards. Rot not, like an unlettered ass, upon the
straw of the school. Jehan, submit to punishment at the
discretion of the master. Jehan, go to chapel every even-
ing, and sing an anthem, with collect and prayer, to the
blessed Virgin Mary.' Ah ! what excellent counsels were
these!"
"What more?"
" Brother, you see before you a sinner, a grievous sin-
ner, a wretch, a libertine, a criminal, a reprobate. My dear
brother, Jehan has trodden under foot your gracious coun-
sels like straw and litter. Severely am I punished for it :
THE HLNCHBACK OP NOTKK-DAME. 359
God Almighty is rigidly just So long as I had money,
I made merry, revelled in folly, and led a joyous life. How
fascinating is debauchery in front, but oh ! how ugly and
deformed behind ! Now I have not a coin left ; I have
sold my linen. My joyous life is over. The bright taper
is put out ; and I have but a scurvy tallow-candle which
stinks in my nostrils. People make a mock at me. I
have only water to drink. 1 am dunned by remorse and
em I i tors."
" What more?" said the archdeacon.
" Alas ! my dear brother, I would fain turn me to a
life. I come to you full of contrition. I am peni-
tent. I confess my faults. I have great reason to wish
that I may one day become licentiate and sub-monitor of
the college of Torchi. At this moment I feel an irresistible
vocation to that office. But I have no ink, I have no pens,
I have no paper, I have no books I must buy more. To
this end I am in great need of a little money, and I am
come to you, brother, with a heart full of contrition."
" Is that all?"
" Yes," said the scholar. " A little money."
" I have none."
WY11 then, brother," replied Jehan, with a grave and
at the same time a determined look, " lam sorry to have
to inform you that very fair offers have been made to me
from another quarter. You will not give me some money ? "
" No."
" Then I will turn Vagabond." In uttering this mon-
strous resolution, he assumed the look of Ajax expecting
the thunderbolt to descend upon his head.
" Turn Vagabond," coldly replied the archdeacon
Jehan made a low obeisance, and skipped whistling down
the cloister stairs.
At the moment when he was passing through the court
of the cloisters, beneath the window of his brother's cell,
he heard it open, and, looking up, saw the stern face of the
archdeacon protruded through the aperture. " Get thee
gone ! " said Dom Claude : M that is the last money thou
shah have from me."
At the same time the priest threw at Jehan a purse
a a 4
3G0 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
which made a great bump on the scholar's forehead, and
with which Jehan went his way, at once growling anu
pleased, like a dog that is pelted with marrow-bones.
CHAPTER III.
IL ALLEGRO.
The reader has not perhaps forgotten that part of the
Cour des Miracles was enclosed by the ancient wall sur-
rounding the Ville, many of the towers of which had be-
gun so early as this period to fall to ruin. One of these
towers had been converted into a place of entertainment by
the Vagabonds. At the bottom was a tavern, and the upper
floors were appropriated to other purposes. This tower
was the busiest and consequently the roost disgusting part
of this resort of the crew. It was a kind of monstrous
hive, where an incessant buzz was kept up night and day.
M night, when all the rest of the colony was buried in
sleep, when not a single light was to be seen in the windows
of the crazy buildings encompassing the place, when no
sound was to be heard issuing from the innumerable dens
swarming with thieves, and dissolute persons of both sexes,
the jovial tower might always be known by the noise that
was made there, by the crimson light, which, gleaming
at once from the chimneys, the windows, and the cre-
vices in the cracked walls, issued, as it were, from every
pore.
The cellar, therefore, was the tavern. The descent to
it was by a low door and stairs as rugged as a classic Alex-
andrine. Over the door there was by way of sign a won-
drous daubing representing a number of new sous and dead
chickens {des sou* neufs et de poulets tuts) with this pun
underneath : Aux sonneurs pour les trepasses.
One evening, at the moment when the curfew-bell was
ringing in every belfry in Paris, the sergeants of the watch.
HUNCHBACK OP NOTHE-PAME. 361
had they chanced to enter the redoubtable Cour des Mi-
racles, might have remarked that there was a greater tu-
mult than usual in the tavern of the Vagabonds, and that
the inmates were both drinking and swearing more lustily.
In the open space without were numerous groups convers-
ing in a subdued tone, as when some important enterprise
is planning ; and here and there a varlet was crouching,
and whetting some rusty weapon or other upon a paving-
stone.
The tavern itself, however, wine, and gaming, were so
powerful a diversion to the ideas which on that evening en-
grossed the vagabond crew, that it would have been difficult
to discover from the conversation of the topers the nature
of their jirnji ct. They merely appeared to be in higher
spirits than ordinary, and between the legs of each was
seen glistening some weapon or other a bill-hook, a
hatchet, a thick bludgeon, or the supporter of an old arque-
buss.
The room, of circular form, was very spacious ; but the
tables were so close, and the customers so numerous, thst
all the contents of the tavern, men and women, benches
and beer-jugs, those who were drinking, those who were
sleeping, those who were gaming, the able-bodied and the
cripple, seemed to be tumbled together pell-mell, with
just as much order and harmony as a heap of oyster-shells.
A few tallow-candles were burning on the tables, but the
real luminary of the tavern, that which performed the part
of the chandelier at the Opera house, was the fire. This
cellar was so damp that the fire was never suffered to go
out even in summer. It was an immense fire-place, with
carved mantel, bristling with clumsy andirons and other
culinary apparatus, containing one of those large fires of
wood and turf mixed, which at night in the village streets
produce, by their glare on the opposite walls, the appear-
ances of the windows of a smithy. A large dog, squatted
in the ashes, was turning a spit laden with viands before
the fire.
Notwithstanding the confusion, after the first glance
there might be distinguished, in this multitude, three prin-
cipal groups crowding around three personages with whom
362 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
the reader is already acquainted. One of these per-
sonages, grotesquely bedizened with many a piece of
eastern frippery, was Matthias Hunyadi Spicali, duke of
Egypt and Bohemia. The varlet was seated on a table,
his legs crossed, his finger uplifted, imparting in a loud
voice, sundry lessons in black and white magic to many a
gaping face around him. Another party had drawn
closely about our old friend, the valiant king of Thunes,
who was armed to the very teeth. Clopin Trouillefou,
with grave look and in a low voice, was superintending the
pillage of a large hogshead full of arms, which stood with
head knocked out before him, and from which stores of
hatchets, swords, coats of mail, hunting knives, spear-
heads, saws, augers, were disgorged like apples and grapes
from a cornucopia. Each tc^k from the heap what he
pleased one a helmet, another a long rapier, a third
a cross or basket-hilted dagger. The very children armed
themselves, and there were even little urchins cuirassed
and accoutred, running between the legs of the topers like
large beetles.
Lastly, a third party, the most noisy, the most jovial,
and the most numerous, occupied the benches and tables,
amidst which a treble voice was swearing and holding forth
from beneath a heavy suit of armour complete from head
to heel. The individual who had thus encased himself
was so impanoplied by his martial accoutrements, that no
part of his person could be seen, save a saucy, red, snub
nose, a lock of light hair, rosy lips, and daring eyes. I It-
had his belt stuck full of daggers, a long sword at his
thigh, a rusty arbalest on his left, and a large jug of wine
before him, from which ever and anon he took a copious
draught. Every mouth around him was laughing, curs-
ing, drinking.
Add to these twenty secondary groups, the attendants,
male and female, running about with plates and jugs,
the gamesters, lolling over the billiards, the merils, the
dice, and the impassioned game of the tringlet ; the quar-
rels in one corner, the kisses in another ; and you will
have some idea of the whole, over which flickered the glare
THE IIINCHBACK OP NOTRK-DAME. 36S
of a huge blazing fire, which made a thousand broad, gro-
tesque shadows dance on the walls of the tavern.
As for the noise, it was like that within a bell in a
grand peal.
Amidst all this din, upon the bench in the chimney-cor-
ner was seated a philosopher absorbed in meditation, his
the ashes, and his eye fixed on the burning brands.
It was Pierre Gringoire.
" Come, make haste, arm yourselves ! we shall start in
an hour ! " said Clopin Trouillefou to his crew.
Two card-players were quarrelling. " Knave," cried
the more rubicund of the two, holding up his fist at the
other, u I will mark thee with the club. Thou shah be
qualified to succeed Mistigri in the card-parties of Mon-
aeigneur the Ki
" Oaf," roared a Norman, who might easily be known
by his nasal twang, " we are crammed together here like
the saints of Callouville ! "
" My sons," said the duke of Egypt to his auditors, in
his falsetto, " the witches of France go to the Sabbath
without broom or aught else to ride on, merely with a few
magical words : those of Italy always have a goat at the
door waiting for them. They are all obliged to go out of
the house through the chimney."
The voice of the young warrior in armour was heard
above the uproar. " Huzza! huzza!" cried he, " my
first feat of arms to-day ! A Vagabond ! Zounds ! what am
I but a Vagabond ! Pour me out some drink ! My friends,
my name is Jehan Frollo du Moulin, and I am a gentle-
man. I could lay any wager that if Jupiter were
a gendarme, he would be fond of plunder. We are going,
brothers, on a rare exp< dition. We are valiant fellows.
Lay siege to the church, break open the doors, carry off
the damsel, rescue her from the judges, save her from the
priests, dismantle the cloisters, bum the bishop in his
palace why, we shall do it all in less time than a burgo-
master takes to eat a basin of soup. Our cause is a
eousone; well plunder Notre- Dame ; that 'a flat We'll
hang Quasimodo. Do you know Quasimodo, fair gentle-
women. Have ye seen him puffing upon the great bell on
3b4i THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
Whit-Sunday ? By Beelzebub's horns, that is grand !
you would take him for a devil astride of a goule. I say,
my friends, I am a Vagabond to my heart's core, a canter
in my soul, a cadger born. I have been well off, and
have run through my fortune. My father wanted to
make me an officer, my mother sub-dean, my aunt a coun-
sellor of inquisition, my grandmother prothonotary to the
king, my grand-aunt keeper of the short robe : while I
I have chosen to be a Vagabond. I told my father so ;
he flung his malison in my face ; and my mother, who,
poor old lady began to cry and sputter like that stake on
the fire. A merry life though a short one, say I ! Ta-
verniere, my darling, let us change our wine ; I have some
money left yet. I don't like the Surene; it cuts my
throat. Corboeuff I'd almost as lieve swallow knives."
Meanwhile the rabble applauded with bursts of laughter ;
and as the tumult swelled around him, the scholar shouted,
" How delightful ! populi debacchantis populosa debac-
chatio!" His eye swimming in ecstasy, he then fell a-
chanting, in the tone of a canon at vespers ; but, suddenly
stopping short, he cried, " Here, you devil's taverner, give
me some supper ! "
Then followed a moment of comparative quiet, during
which the duke of Egypt raised his shrill voice, while in-
structing his Bohemians. " The weasel is called Aduine ;
the fox, Bluefoot; the wolf, Greyfoot or Goldfoot; the
bear, the old man, or the grandfather. The cap of a
gnome renders you invisible, and enables you to see invisible
things. Every toad that is baptized ought to be dressed
in red or black velvet, with a bell about its neck and a bell
at each foot. The godfather must take hold of the head ;
the godmother, of the feet."
Meanwhile the crew continued to arm themselves at the
other end of the tavern, amidst such whispers as these :