14
THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME.
"What are they about now ?" said Gringoire to
himself, while his heart sunk within him. A tink-
ling of email bells put an end to his anxiety. It
was the figure of a man, a kind of scarecrow, in a
red dress, so profusely bestudded with little bells
that they would have sufficed for the caparison of
thirty Castilian mules, which the Vagabonds were
suspending by the neck from the rope. The
chatter of these thousand bells, occasioned by
the swinging of the rope, gradually subsided, and
at length ceased entirely with the motion of the
6 cfopin pointed to a crazy stool placed under the
figure.                                      .
" Get upon that," said he to Gringoire.
"'Sdeath ! " rejoined the poet, "I shall break my
neck. Your stool halts like a distich of Martial s ;
it has one hexameter and one pentameter foot.
" Get up, knave ! " repeated Clopin.
Gringoire mounted the stool, and, after some
oscillations of head and arms, recovered his center
 'gNow,"'continued the King of Thunes, "cross
thy right leg over thy left and stand on tip-toe.
"Morbleu !" cried Gringoire, "then you ab-
solutely insist on it that I shall break some of my
limbs ?"                                                    . ,
Clopin shook his head. "Hark ye, my friend,
thou talkest too much for me. In two words this
is what thou hast to do. Thou must stand on tip-
toe as I tell thee, so as to reach the pocket of the
figure. Thou must take out a purse that is m it,
and if thou canst do this without making any of
the bells speak, 'tis well; thou shalt be a Vaga-
bond. We shall then have nothing to do but to
baste thee soundly for a week or so."
" Ventre Dieu! " exclaimed Gringoire. And if
the bells shouid give mouth in spite of me ?"
" Why, then thou shalt be hanged; dost thou
comprehend me ?"
" Not at all," answered Gringoire.
" Well then I tell thee once more.   Thou must
pick the pocket of that figure of a purse and if a
single bell stirs, while thou art about it, thou shalt
be hanged.   Dost thou understand that ? "
" I do," said Gringoire.   " And then ? "
" If thou art clever enough to prig the purse
without setting the bells a-chattering, thou art a
Canter, and shalt be soundly thrashed every now
and then for a week.   Thou understandest that,
no doubt?"                                  
" But what better shall 1 be ?   Hanged in one
case, beaten in the other?"
" And a Canter ! " rejoined Clopin, "a Canter !
Is that nothing ? It is for thy own benefit that
we shall beat thee, to inure thee to blows."
" Many thanks to you ! " replied the poet.
" Come, bear a hand ! " said the King, stamping
upon his hogshead, which sounded like a big
drum. "To thy task, knave! And recollect, if 1
hear but a single bell, thou shalt change places
with that figure."
raising his eyes, beheld him with terror crouching
on the cross-beam over his head.
" Now," resumed Clopin, " the moment I clap
my hands, thou Andry the Bed, kick away the stool;
thou Francois Clianteprune pull the varlet s legs,
and thou, Bellevigne, spring upon his Bhoulders
all three at once, d'ye hear ? "
Gringoire shuddered.
"Are ye there ?" said Clopin Trouillefou to the
three ruffians, ready to rush upon the unfortunate
poet. The wretched man passed a moment of hor-
rid suspense, while Clopin carelessly kicked into
the fire a few twigs which the flame had not con-
sumed. "Are ye there?" he repeated, opening
his hands for the decisive clap.
He stopped short, as if a sudden thought had
occurred to him, " Wait a moment ! said he, I
forgot ... It is customary with us not to hang a
blade, till the women have been asked whether
any of them will have him. Comrade, this is thy
list chance "
Gringoire breathed once more. It was the second
time that he had come to life withm the last half
hour. He durst not, therefore, place much reli-
ance upon this reprieve.
Clopin again mounted his hogshead. "This way,
gentlewomen!" cried he. "Is there any among
vou who will have this knave ? Come forward
_j'i   *  v,,,!/! fnr nothing !   Who wants
The crew appiauded Clopin's words, and ranged  joined the crowd.
i          _.l____I_____I.  ......n.4   +ln     ,]lma      .,il>>     art          " (VimrHIIA "    RSll
and see!
one ? "
Gringoire, in his wretched plight, looked far
from tempting. The female mumpers showed no
eagerness to accept the offer. The unhappy man
heard them answer one after another. No, no
hang him, and that will be a pleasure for us all.
Three of them, however, stepped forward from
among the crowd to take a look at him. The first
was a strapping broad-faced wench. She closely
examined the deplorable doublet and the thread-
bare frock of the philosopher. She shrugged her
shoulders. "Queer toggery!" grumbled she.
Then turning to Gringoire: "Where is thy
cloak?""1 have lost it," answered he. Thy
hat?""They have taken it from me.""Thy
shoes?""They are nearly worn out." "Thy
purse?"  "Alas!" stammered Gringoire, "I
have not a denier left." "Hang then, and be
thankful!" replied the wench, turning on her
heel and striding away.
The second, an old wrinkled hag, dark, and
hideously ugly, walked round Gringoire. He al-
most trembled lest she should take a fancy to him.
At length she muttered to herself, " He is as lean
as a carrion," and away she went.
The third was young, fresh-looking, and r.ot ill-
favored. " Save me ! " said the poor poet to her
in a low tone. She surveyed him for a moment
with a look of pity, cast down her eyes, twitched
her petticoat, and stood for a moment undecided.
He narrowly watched all her motions. It was the
last glimmer of hope. " No," said she at last; " no;
Guillaume Longjoue would beat me," and she re-
desire nothing better than to draw a few loans
from a cupboard suspended close by, having a
prospect of a good bed, and a tete a-tete with a
handsome girl. The adventure was like absolute
enchantment. He began seriously to take him-
self for the hero of some fairy tale ; and looked
round from time to time to see whether the chariot
of the tire drawn by griffins, which could alone
have conveyed him with such rapidity from Tar-
tarus to Paradise was still there. Now and then
too, he would fix his eyes on the holes in his doub-
let, as if to satisfy himself of his identity. His
reason, tossed to and fro in imaginary space, had
only this thread to hold by.
The girl appeared to take no notice of him; she
moved backward and forward, setting things to
rights, talking to her goat, and now and then
pouting her lip. At length she sat down near the
table, and Gringoire had a good opportunity to
scrutinize her.
You have been a child, reader, and may perhaps
have the good fortune to be so still. 1 dare say
you have often (I know 1 have, for whole days to-
gether, ay, and some of the best spent days of my
Fife) followed from bush to bush on the bank of a
stream, on a fine sunshiny day, some beautiful
green and blue dragon-fly, darting off every mo-
ment at acute angles, and brushing the ends of all
the branches. You remember with what amorous
curiosity your attention and your eyes were fixed
on those fluttering wings of purple and azure,
amid which floated a form rendered indistinct
by the very rapidity of its motion. The aerial crea-
ture, confusedly perceived through this flickering
of wings, appeared to you chimerical, imaginary,
,a thing neither to be touched nor seen. But when
at length it settled on the point of a rush, and,
holding your breath the while, you could examine
those delicate wings of gauze, that long robe of
enamel, those two globes of crystal, what aston-
ishment did you not feel, and what fear lest this
beautiful figure should again vanish into an airy
undefinable phantom. Becollect these impres-
sions, and you will easily conceive what Gringoire
felt on contemplating in a visible and palpable
form that Esmeralda, of whom he had till then
had but a glimpse amid the whirling dance and a
crowd of spectators.
He became more and more absorbed in his reve-
This thenthought he, while his eye vaguely
themselves in a circle round the gallows, with so
pitiless a laugh that Gringoire saw he amused
them too much not to have to fear the worst from
them. The only hope he had left was the most
precarious chance of succeeding in the ticklish
task imposed upon him. Before he set about it, he
addressed a fervent prayer to the effigy which he
was going to rob, and which he would have soft-
ened as easily as the Vagabonds. The myriad of
bells with their little copper tongues, seemed to
him so many gaping jaws of serpents, ready to
bite and to hiss.
" Oh ! " said he aside, " is it possible that my life
depends on the slightest vibration of the smallest
of these bells ? " He tried the effect of a last effort
on Trouillefou. "And if there should come a gust
of wind?"
" Thou shalt be hanged," replied the King of
Thunes without hesitation.
Finding that there was neither respite, nor re-
prieve, nor any possible evasion for him, he went
resolutely to work. Crossing his right leg over
the left, and raising himself on tiptoe, he stretched
out his arm; but, at the moment when he touched
the effigy, he found himself tottering upon tlie
stool which had but three legs; he lost his balance,
mechanically caught at the figure, and fell plump
on the ground, stunned by the fatal jingle of the
thousand bells of the figure, which, yielding to
the impulsion of his hand, at first turned round
upon itself, and then swung majestically between
the two poles.
" Saere ! " cried he as he fell, and he lay like
one dead, with his face toward the ground. He
heard, however, the horrid chime above his head,
the diabolical laugh of the Canters, and the voice
of Trouillefou, who said, "Pick up the varlet, and
hang him out of hand."
He rose. They had already taken down the
effigy to make room for him. The Vagabonds
made him once more mount the stool. Clopin
stepped up to him, put the rope about his neck,
and patting him on the shoulder: " Farewell, my
friend ! " said he. " Thou canst not escape now,
even with the devil's luck and thine own."
The word Mercy ! died away on the lips of
Gringoire. He glanced around him, but there
was no hope; they were all laughing.
" Bellevigne de l'Etoile," said the King of Thunes,
to a porpoise of a fellow, who stepped forth from
the ranks, " scramble up to that cross-bar." The
monster mounted witli an agility for which no
one would have given him credit, and Gringoire,
Comrade," said Clopin, "thou art unlucky."
Then standing up on his hogshead, "Will nobody
bid ? " cried he, imitating the manner of an auc-
tioneer, to the high diversion of the crew. " Will
nobody bid ? once, twice, three times !" then turn-
ing to the gallows, with a nod of the head, " Gone !"
Bellevigne de l'Etoile, Andry the Bed, and Fran-
cois Chanteprune again surrounded the gibbet.
At that moment cries of " La Esmeralda ! La Es-
meralda ! " arose among the Vagabonds. Grin-
goire shuddered, and turned the way from which
the clamor proceeded. The crowd opened and
made way for a bright and dazzling figure. It was
the gypsy-girl.
"La Esmeralda!" ejaculated Gringoire, struck,
amid his agitation at the sudden manner in
which that magic name connected his scattered
recollections of the events of the day. This extra-
ordinary creature appeared by her fascination and
beauty to exercise sovereign sway over the Cour
des Miracles itself. Its inmates of both sexes re-
spectfully drew back for her to pass, and at sight
of her their brutal faces assumed a softer expres-
With light step she approached the sufferer.
She eyed
Gringoire was more dead than alive,
him for a moment in silence.
"Are you going to hang this man?" said she
gravely to Clopin.
"Yes, sister," replied the King of Thunes, "un-
less thou wilt take him for thy husband."
Her lower lip was protruded into the pretty
pout already described.
" I will take him," said she.
Gringoire was now thoroughly convinced that
he had been in a dream ever since morning, and
that this was but a continuation of it. The shock,
though agreeable, was violent. The noose was re-
moved, the poet was dismounted from the stool on
which he was obliged to sit down so vehement
was his agitation.
The Duke of Egypt, without uttering a word,
brought an earthenware jug. The gypsy-girl
handed it to Gringoire. " Drop it on the ground,"
said she to him.   The jug broke into four pieces.
"Brother," said the Duke of Egypt, placing a
hand upon the head of each, " she is thy wife.
Sister, he is thy husband.   For four years.  Go."
Chapter VILA Wedding Night.
In a few moments our poet found himself in a
small room, with covered ceiling, very snug and
very warm, seated at a table, which appeared to
followed her motionsis La Esmeralda ! a celestial
creature !a street-dancer ! So much and so lit-
tle. It was she who gave the finishing stroke to
my mystery this afternoon, and it is she who saves
my life to-night. My evil genius ! my good angel !
A sweet girl, upon my word !and who must love
me to distraction, to have taken me in this man-
ner. For, said he, rising all at once with that can-
dor which formed the groundwork of his charac-
ter and of his philosophy, I know not exactly how
it has come to pass, but I am her husband.
With this idea in his head and in bis eyes, he
approached the girl with such ardent impetuosity
that she drew back. "What do you want with
me ? " inquired she.
" Can you ask such a question, adorable Esme-
ralda?" rejoined Gringoire in so impassioned a
tone that he was astonished at it himself.
The Egyptian opened her large eyes. "I know
not what you mean," said she.
" What ! " replied Gringoire, warming more and
more, and thinking that after all it was but a
virtue of the Cour des Miracles that he had to do
with; "am I not thine, my sweet friend ? art thou
not mine ? " Witli these words he fondly threw
his arm round her waist.
The drapery of the Bohemian glided through
his hands like the skin of an eel. Bounding from
one end of the cell to the. other, she stooped, and
raised herself again, with a little dagger in her
hand, before Gringoire could see whence it came,
with swollen lip, distended nostril, cheeks as red
as an apricot, and eyes flashing lightning. At tne
same moment the little white goat placed itseir
before her in the attitude of attack, presenting to
Gringoire two very pretty but very sharp, gui
horns.   All this was done in a twinkling.
Our   philosopher   stood  petrified, alternately
eyeing the goat and her mistress. "Holy Virgin.
he at length ejaculated, when surprise allowea
him to sp -ak, " what a couple of vixens !
" And you," said the Bohemian, breaking silence
on her part, "must be a very impudent fellow.
"Pardon me," replied Gringoire, smiling,    uu.
why did you take me for your husband t
" Ought 1 to have let you be hanged 1
"Then," rejoined the  poet, somewhat disap-
pointed in his amorous hopes, "you had no ouier
intention in marrying me but to save me from m
gal'And what other intention do you suppose I
could have had?"                   ,       ., .t. wm.
Gringoire bit his lips. " Go to," said he to him
self, "f am not so triumphant in love;* "
I imagined. But then, of what use was it to Mean,
the poor jug?"                  .               , ,. nnrn9
Meanwhile Esmeralda's dagger and the nom
of her goat were still upon the defensive.           t
"Mademoiselle Esmeralda," said the Wh ,
us capitulate.   I am not a clerk to the Cbateiei,
and shall not provoke you thus to carry a dafeg
in Paris, in the teeth of the Provost's ordinance
,i   v^v,iivinT,<i     You  must, nevertheless, w
and
anu  prohibitions,     auu  n., -
aware that Noel Lescrivam was sentenced   
ago to pay a fine of ten sous Pansis to*$
carried a short sword.   But that is no business
il