第18章

RennetCousinwentinsearchofthechestoftoolsforthenightman，undertheshedofthePillar-House。Hedrewfromitalsothedoubleladder，whichheimmediatelysetupagainstthegallows。Fiveorsixoftheprovost’smenarmedthemselveswithpicksandcrowbars，andTristanbetookhimself，incompanywiththem，towardsthewindow。

"Oldwoman，"saidtheprovost，inaseveretone，"deliveruptousthatgirlquietly。"

Shelookedathimlikeonewhodoesnotunderstand。

"~TêteDieu~！"continuedTristan，"whydoyoutrytopreventthissorceressbeinghungasitpleasestheking？"

Thewretchedwomanbegantolaughinherwildway。

"Why？Sheismydaughter。"

ThetoneinwhichshepronouncedthesewordsmadeevenHenrietCousinshudder。

"Iamsorryforthat，"saidtheprovost，"butitistheking’sgoodpleasure。"

Shecried，redoublingherterriblelaugh，——

"Whatisyourkingtome？Itellyouthatsheismydaughter！"

"Piercethewall，"saidTristan。

Inordertomakeasufficientlywideopening，itsufficedtodislodgeonecourseofstonebelowthewindow。Whenthemotherheardthepicksandcrowbarsminingherfortress，sheutteredaterriblecry；thenshebegantostrideabouthercellwithfrightfulswiftness，awildbeasts’habitwhichhercagehadimpartedtoher。Shenolongersaidanything，buthereyesflamed。Thesoldierswerechilledtotheverysoul。

Allatoncesheseizedherpavingstone，laughed，andhurleditwithbothfistsupontheworkmen。Thestone，badlyflung(forherhandstrembled)，touchednoone，andfellshortunderthefeetofTristan’shorse。Shegnashedherteeth。

Inthemeantime，althoughthesunhadnotyetrisen，itwasbroaddaylight；abeautifulrosecolorenlivenedtheancient，decayedchimneysofthePillar-House。Itwasthehourwhentheearliestwindowsofthegreatcityopenjoyouslyontheroofs。Someworkmen，afewfruit-sellersontheirwaytothemarketsontheirasses，begantotraversetheGrève；theyhaltedforamomentbeforethisgroupofsoldiersclusteredroundtheRat-Hole，staredatitwithanairofastonishmentandpassedon。

Thereclusehadgoneandseatedherselfbyherdaughter，coveringherwithherbody，infrontofher，withstaringeyes，listeningtothepoorchild，whodidnotstir，butwhokeptmurmuringinalowvoice，thesewordsonly，"Phoebus！

Phoebus！"Inproportionastheworkofthedemolishersseemedtoadvance，themothermechanicallyretreated，andpressedtheyounggirlcloserandclosertothewall。Allatonce，thereclusebeheldthestone(forshewasstandingguardandnevertookhereyesfromit)，move，andsheheardTristan’svoiceencouragingtheworkers。Thenshearousedfromthedepressionintowhichshehadfallenduringthelastfewmoments，criedout，andasshespoke，hervoicenowrenttheearlikeasaw，thenstammeredasthoughallkindofmaledictionswerepressingtoherlipstoburstforthatonce。

"Ho！ho！ho！Whythisisterrible！Youareruffians！

Areyoureallygoingtotakemydaughter？Oh！thecowards！

Oh！thehangmanlackeys！thewretched，blackguardassassins！

Help！help！fire！Willtheytakemychildfrommelikethis？WhoisitthenwhoiscalledthegoodGod？"

Then，addressingTristan，foamingatthemouth，withwildeyes，allbristlingandonallfourslikeafemalepanther，——

"Drawnearandtakemydaughter！Donotyouunderstandthatthiswomantellsyouthatsheismydaughter？Doyouknowwhatitistohaveachild？Eh！lynx，haveyouneverlainwithyourfemale？haveyouneverhadacub？

andifyouhavelittleones，whentheyhowlhaveyounothinginyourvitalsthatmoves？"

"Throwdownthestone，"saidTristan；"itnolongerholds。"

Thecrowbarsraisedtheheavycourse。Itwas，aswehavesaid，themother’slastbulwark。

Shethrewherselfuponit，shetriedtoholditback；shescratchedthestonewithhernails，butthemassiveblock，setinmovementbysixmen，escapedherandglidedgentlytothegroundalongtheironlevers。

Themother，perceivinganentranceeffected，felldowninfrontoftheopening，barricadingthebreachwithherbody，beatingthepavementwithherhead，andshriekingwithavoicerenderedsohoarsebyfatiguethatitwashardlyaudible，——

"Help！fire！fire！"

"Nowtakethewench，"saidTristan，stillimpassive。

Themothergazedatthesoldiersinsuchformidablefashionthattheyweremoreinclinedtoretreatthantoadvance。

"Come，now，"repeatedtheprovost。"Hereyou，RennetCousin！"

Noonetookastep。

Theprovostswore，——

"~TêtedeChrist~！mymenofwar！afraidofawoman！"

"Monseigneur，"saidRennet，"doyoucallthatawoman？"

"Shehasthemaneofalion，"saidanother。

"Come！"repeatedtheprovost，"thegapiswideenough。

Enterthreeabreast，asatthebreachofPontoise。Letusmakeanendofit，deathofMahom！Iwillmaketwopiecesofthefirstmanwhodrawsback！"

Placedbetweentheprovostandthemother，boththreatening，thesoldiershesitatedforamoment，thentooktheirresolution，andadvancedtowardstheRat-Hole。

Whenthereclusesawthis，sheroseabruptlyonherknees，flungasideherhairfromherface，thenletherthinflayedhandsfallbyherside。Thengreattearsfell，onebyone，fromhereyes；theyfloweddownhercheeksthroughafurrow，likeatorrentthroughabedwhichithashollowedforitself。

Atthesametimeshebegantospeak，butinavoicesosupplicating，sogentle，sosubmissive，soheartrending，thatmorethanoneoldconvict-warderaroundTristanwhomusthavedevouredhumanfleshwipedhiseyes。

"Messeigneurs！messieursthesergeants，oneword。ThereisonethingwhichImustsaytoyou。Sheismydaughter，doyousee？mydearlittledaughterwhomIhadlost！

Listen。Itisquiteahistory。ConsiderthatIknewthesergeantsverywell。Theywerealwaysgoodtomeinthedayswhenthelittleboysthrewstonesatme，becauseIledalifeofpleasure。Doyousee？Youwillleavememychildwhenyouknow！Iwasapoorwomanofthetown。ItwastheBohemianswhostoleherfromme。AndIkepthershoeforfifteenyears。Stay，hereitis。Thatwasthekindoffootwhichshehad。AtReims！LaChantefleurie！RueFolle-

Peine！Perchance，youknewaboutthat。ItwasI。Inyouryouth，then，therewasamerrytime，whenonepassedgoodhours。Youwilltakepityonme，willyounot，gentlemen？

Thegypsiesstoleherfromme；theyhidherfrommeforfifteenyears。Ithoughtherdead。Fancy，mygoodfriends，believedhertobedead。Ihavepassedfifteenyearshereinthiscellar，withoutafireinwinter。Itishard。Thepoor，dearlittleshoe！IhavecriedsomuchthatthegoodGodhasheardme。Thisnighthehasgivenmydaughterbacktome。

ItisamiracleofthegoodGod。Shewasnotdead。Youwillnottakeherfromme，Iamsure。Ifitweremyself，I

wouldsaynothing；butshe，achildofsixteen！Leavehertimetoseethesun！Whathasshedonetoyou？nothingatall。NorhaveI。IfyoudidbutknowthatsheisallI

have，thatIamold，thatsheisablessingwhichtheHolyVirginhassenttome！Andthen，youareallsogood！

Youdidnotknowthatshewasmydaughter；butnowyoudoknowit。Oh！Iloveher！Monsieur，thegrandprovost。

Iwouldpreferastabinmyownvitalstoascratchonherfinger！Youhavetheairofsuchagoodlord！WhatIhavetoldyouexplainsthematter，doesitnot？Oh！ifyouhavehadamother，monsiegneur！youarethecaptain，leavememychild！ConsiderthatIprayyouonmyknees，asonepraystoJesusChrist！Iasknothingofanyone；IamfromReims，gentlemen；Iownalittlefieldinheritedfrommyuncle，MahietPradon。Iamnobeggar。Iwishnothing，butIdowantmychild！oh！Iwanttokeepmychild！ThegoodGod，whoisthemaster，hasnotgivenherbacktomefornothing！Theking！yousaytheking！Itwouldnotcausehimmuchpleasuretohavemylittledaughterkilled！

Andthen，thekingisgood！sheismydaughter！sheismyowndaughter！Shebelongsnottotheking！sheisnotyours！Iwanttogoaway！wewanttogoaway！andwhentwowomenpass，oneamotherandtheotheradaughter，oneletsthemgo！Letuspass！webelonginReims。Oh！youareverygood，messieursthesergeants，Iloveyouall。Youwillnottakemydearlittleone，itisimpossible！Itisutterlyimpossible，isitnot？Mychild，mychild！"

Wewillnottrytogiveanideaofhergestures，hertone，ofthetearswhichsheswallowedasshespoke，ofthehandswhichsheclaspedandthenwrung，oftheheart-breakingsmiles，oftheswimmingglances，ofthegroans，thesighs，themiserableandaffectingcrieswhichshemingledwithherdisordered，wild，andincoherentwords。WhenshebecamesilentTristanl’Hermitefrowned，butitwastoconcealatearwhichwelledupinhistiger’seye。Heconqueredthisweakness，however，andsaidinacurttone，——

"Thekingwillsit。"

ThenhebentdowntotheearofRennetCousin，andsaidtohiminaverylowtone，——

"Makeanendofitquickly！"Possibly，theredoubtableprovostfelthisheartalsofailinghim。

Theexecutionerandthesergeantsenteredthecell。Themotherofferednoresistance，onlyshedraggedherselftowardsherdaughterandthrewherselfbodilyuponher。

Thegypsybeheldthesoldiersapproach。Thehorrorofdeathreanimatedher，——

"Mother！"sheshrieked，inatoneofindescribabledistress，"Mother！theyarecoming！defendme！"

"Yes，mylove，Iamdefendingyou！"repliedthemother，inadyingvoice；andclaspinghercloselyinherarms，shecoveredherwithkisses。Thetwolyingthusontheearth，themotheruponthedaughter，presentedaspectacleworthyofpity。

RennetCousingraspedtheyounggirlbythemiddleofherbody，beneathherbeautifulshoulders。Whenshefeltthathand，shecried，"Heuh！"andfainted。Theexecutionerwhowassheddinglargetearsuponher，dropbydrop，wasabouttobearherawayinhisarms。Hetriedtodetachthemother，whohad，sotospeak，knottedherhandsaroundherdaughter’swaist；butsheclungsostronglytoherchild，thatitwasimpossibletoseparatethem。ThenRennetCousindraggedtheyounggirloutsidethecell，andthemotherafterher。Themother’seyeswerealsoclosed。

Atthatmoment，thesunrose，andtherewasalreadyonthePlaceafairlynumerousassemblyofpeoplewholookedonfromadistanceatwhatwasbeingthusdraggedalongthepavementtothegibbet。ForthatwasProvostTristan’swayatexecutions。Hehadapassionforpreventingtheapproachofthecurious。

Therewasnooneatthewindows。Onlyatadistance，atthesummitofthatoneofthetowersofNotre-DamewhichcommandstheGrève，twomenoutlinedinblackagainstthelightmorningsky，andwhoseemedtobelookingon，werevisible。

RennetCousinpausedatthefootofthefatalladder，withthatwhichhewasdragging，and，barelybreathing，withsomuchpitydidthethinginspirehim，hepassedtheropearoundthelovelyneckoftheyounggirl。Theunfortunatechildfeltthehorribletouchofthehemp。Sheraisedhereyelids，andsawthefleshlessarmofthestonegallowsextendedaboveherhead。Thensheshookherselfandshriekedinaloudandheartrendingvoice:"No！no！Iwillnot！"Hermother，whoseheadwasburiedandconcealedinherdaughter’sgarments，saidnotaword；onlyherwholebodycouldbeseentoquiver，andshewasheardtoredoubleherkissesonherchild。Theexecutionertookadvantageofthismomenttohastilyloosethearmswithwhichsheclaspedthecondemnedgirl。Eitherthroughexhaustionordespair，shelethimhavehisway。Thenhetooktheyounggirlonhisshoulder，fromwhichthecharmingcreaturehung，gracefullybentoverhislargehead。Thenhesethisfootontheladderinordertoascend。

Atthatmoment，themotherwhowascrouchingonthepavement，openedhereyeswide。Withoututteringacry，sheraisedherselferectwithaterribleexpression；thensheflungherselfuponthehandoftheexecutioner，likeabeastonitsprey，andbitit。Itwasdonelikeaflashoflightning。Theheadsmanhowledwithpain。Thosenearbyrushedup。

Withdifficultytheywithdrewhisbleedinghandfromthemother’steeth。Shepreservedaprofoundsilence。Theythrustherbackwithmuchbrutality，andnoticedthatherheadfellheavilyonthepavement。Theyraisedher，shefellbackagain。Shewasdead。

Theexecutioner，whohadnotloosedhisholdontheyounggirl，begantoascendtheladderoncemore。

CHAPTERII。

THEBEAUTIFULCREATURECLADINWHITE。(Dante。)

WhenQuasimodosawthatthecellwasempty，thatthegypsywasnolongerthere，thatwhilehehadbeendefendinghershehadbeenabducted，hegraspedhishairwithbothhandsandstampedwithsurpriseandpain；thenhesetouttorunthroughtheentirechurchseekinghisBohemian，howlingstrangecriestoallthecornersofthewalls，strewinghisredhaironthepavement。Itwasjustatthemomentwhentheking’sarchersweremakingtheirvictoriousentranceintoNotre-Dame，alsoinsearchofthegypsy。Quasimodo，poor，deaffellow，aidedthemintheirfatalintentions，withoutsuspectingit；hethoughtthattheoutcastswerethegypsy’senemies。HehimselfconductedTristanl’Hermitetoallpossiblehiding-places，openedtohimthesecretdoors，thedoublebottomsofthealtars，therearsacristries。Iftheunfortunategirlhadstillbeenthere，itwouldhavebeenhehimselfwhowouldhavedeliveredherup。

WhenthefatigueoffindingnothinghaddisheartenedTristan，whowasnoteasilydiscouraged，Quasimodocontinuedthesearchalone。Hemadethetourofthechurchtwentytimes，lengthandbreadth，upanddown，ascendinganddescending，running，calling，sbouting，peeping，rummaging，ransacking，thrustinghisheadintoeveryhole，pushingatorchundereveryvault，despairing，mad。A

malewhohaslosthisfemaleisnomoreroaringnormorehaggard。

Atlastwhenhewassure，perfectlysurethatshewasnolongerthere，thatallwasatanend，thatshehadbeensnatchedfromhim，heslowlymountedthestaircasetothetowers，thatstaircasewhichhehadascendedwithsomucheagernessandtriumphonthedaywhenhehadsavedher。

Hepassedthosesameplacesoncemorewithdroopinghead，voiceless，tearless，almostbreathless。Thechurchwasagaindeserted，andhadfallenbackintoitssilence。Thearchershadquittedittotrackthesorceressinthecity。Quasimodo，leftaloneinthatvastNotre-Dame，sobesiegedandtumultuousbutashorttimebefore，oncemorebetookhimselftothecellwherethegypsyhadsleptforsomanyweeksunderhisguardianship。

Asheapproachedit，hefanciedthathemight，perhaps，findherthere。When，attheturnofthegallerywhichopensontheroofofthesideaisles，heperceivedthetinycellwithitslittlewindowanditslittledoorcrouchingbeneathagreatflyingbuttresslikeabird’snestunderabranch，thepoorman’sheartfailedhim，andheleanedagainstapillartokeepfromfalling。Heimaginedthatshemighthavereturnedthither，thatsomegoodgeniushad，nodoubt，broughtherback，thatthischamberwastootranquil，toosafe，toocharmingforhernottobethere，andhedarednottakeanotherstepforfearofdestroyinghisillusion。"Yes，"hesaidtohimself，"perchancesheissleeping，orpraying。Imustnotdisturbher。"

Atlengthhesummonedupcourage，advancedontiptoe，looked，entered。Empty。Thecellwasstillempty。Theunhappydeafmanwalkedslowlyroundit，liftedthebedandlookedbeneathit，asthoughshemightbeconcealedbetweenthepavementandthemattress，thenheshookhisheadandremainedstupefied。Allatonce，hecrushedhistorchunderhisfoot，and，withoututteringaword，withoutgivingventtoasigh，heflunghimselfatfullspeed，headforemostagainstthewall，andfellfaintingonthefloor。

Whenherecoveredhissenses，hethrewhimselfonthebedandrollingabout，hekissedfranticallytheplacewheretheyounggirlhadsleptandwhichwasstillwarm；heremainedthereforseveralmomentsasmotionlessasthoughhewereabouttoexpire；thenherose，drippingwithperspiration，panting，mad，andbegantobeathisheadagainstthewallwiththefrightfulregularityoftheclapperofhisbells，andtheresolutionofamandeterminedtokillhimself。Atlengthhefellasecondtime，exhausted；hedraggedhimselfonhiskneesoutsidethecell，andcroucheddownfacingthedoor，inanattitudeofastonishment。

Heremainedthusformorethananhourwithoutmakingamovement，withhiseyefixedonthedesertedcell，moregloomy，andmorepensivethanamotherseatedbetweenanemptycradleandafullcoffin。Heutterednotaword；onlyatlongintervals，asobheavedhisbodyviolently，butitwasatearlesssob，likesummerlightningwhichmakesnonoise。

Itappearstohavebeenthen，that，seekingatthebottomofhislonelythoughtsfortheunexpectedabductorofthegypsy，hethoughtofthearchdeacon。HerememberedthatDomClaudealonepossessedakeytothestaircaseleadingtothecell；herecalledhisnocturnalattemptsontheyounggirl，inthefirstofwhichhe，Quasimodo，hadassisted，thesecondofwhichhehadprevented。Herecalledathousanddetails，andsoonhenolongerdoubtedthatthearchdeaconhadtakenthegypsy。Nevertheless，suchwashisrespectforthepriest，suchhisgratitude，hisdevotion，hisloveforthismanhadtakensuchdeeprootinhisheart，thattheyresisted，evenatthismoment，thetalonsofjealousyanddespair。

Hereflectedthatthearchdeaconhaddonethisthing，andthewrathofbloodanddeathwhichitwouldhaveevokedinhimagainstanyotherperson，turnedinthepoordeafman，fromthemomentwhenClaudeFrollowasinquestion，intoanincreaseofgriefandsorrow。

Atthemomentwhenhisthoughtwasthusfixeduponthepriest，whilethedaybreakwaswhiteningtheflyingbuttresses，heperceivedonthehigheststoryofNotre-Dame，attheangleformedbytheexternalbalustradeasitmakestheturnofthechancel，afigurewalking。Thisfigurewascomingtowardshim。Herecognizedit。Itwasthearchdeacon。

Claudewaswalkingwithaslow，gravestep。Hedidnotlookbeforehimashewalked，hewasdirectinghiscoursetowardsthenortherntower，buthisfacewasturnedasidetowardstherightbankoftheSeine，andheheldhisheadhigh，asthoughtryingtoseesomethingovertheroofs。Theowloftenassumesthisobliqueattitude。Itfliestowardsonepointandlookstowardsanother。InthismannerthepriestpassedaboveQuasimodowithoutseeinghim。

Thedeafman，whohadbeenpetrifiedbythissuddenapparition，beheldhimdisappearthroughthedoorofthestaircasetothenorthtower。ThereaderisawarethatthisisthetowerfromwhichtheH？tel-de-Villeisvisible。

Quasimodoroseandfollowedthearchdeacon。

Quasimodoascendedthetowerstaircaseforthesakeofascendingit，forthesakeofseeingwhythepriestwasascendingit。Moreover，thepoorbellringerdidnotknowwhathe(Quasimodo)shoulddo，whatheshouldsay，whathewished。

Hewasfulloffuryandfulloffear。Thearchdeaconandthegypsyhadcomeintoconflictinhisheart。

Whenhereachedthesummitofthetower，beforeemergingfromtheshadowofthestaircaseandsteppingupontheplatform，hecautiouslyexaminedthepositionofthepriest。

Thepriest’sbackwasturnedtohim。Thereisanopenworkbalustradewhichsurroundstheplatformofthebelltower。

Thepriest，whoseeyeslookeddownuponthetown，wasrestinghisbreastonthatoneofthefoursidesofthebalustradeswhichlooksuponthePontNotre-Dame。

Quasimodo，advancingwiththetreadofawolfbehindhim，wenttoseewhathewasgazingatthus。

Thepriest’sattentionwassoabsorbedelsewherethathedidnothearthedeafmanwalkingbehindhim。

Parisisamagnificentandcharmingspectacle，andespeciallyatthatday，viewedfromthetopofthetowersofNotre-

Dame，inthefreshlightofasummerdawn。ThedaymighthavebeeninJuly。Theskywasperfectlyserene。Sometardystarswerefadingawayatvariouspoints，andtherewasaverybrilliantoneintheeast，inthebrightestpartoftheheavens。Thesunwasabouttoappear；Pariswasbeginningtomove。Averywhiteandverypurelightbroughtoutvividlytotheeyealltheoutlinesthatitsthousandsofhousespresenttotheeast。Thegiantshadowofthetowersleapedfromrooftoroof，fromoneendofthegreatcitytotheother。

Therewereseveralquartersfromwhichwerealreadyheardvoicesandnoisysounds。Herethestrokeofabell，therethestrokeofahammer，beyond，thecomplicatedclatterofacartinmotion。

Alreadyseveralcolumnsofsmokewerebeingbelchedforthfromthechimneysscatteredoverthewholesurfaceofroofs，asthroughthefissuresofanimmensesulphurouscrater。

Theriver，whichrufflesitswatersagainstthearchesofsomanybridges，againstthepointsofsomanyislands，waswaveringwithsilveryfolds。Aroundthecity，outsidetheramparts，sightwaslostinagreatcircleoffleecyvaporsthroughwhichoneconfusedlydistinguishedtheindefinitelineoftheplains，andthegracefulswelloftheheights。Allsortsoffloatingsoundsweredispersedoverthishalf-awakenedcity。Towardstheeast，themorningbreezechasedafewsoftwhitebitsofwooltornfromthemistyfleeceofthehills。

IntheParvis，somegoodwomen，whohadtheirmilkjugsintheirhands，werepointingouttoeachother，withastonishment，thesingulardilapidationofthegreatdoorofNotre-Dame，andthetwosolidifiedstreamsofleadinthecrevicesofthestone。Thiswasallthatremainedofthetempestofthenight。ThebonfirelightedbetweenthetowersbyQuasimodohaddiedout。TristanhadalreadyclearedupthePlace，andhadthedeadthrownintotheSeine。KingslikeLouisXI。arecarefultocleanthepavementquicklyafteramassacre。

Outsidethebalustradeofthetower，directlyunderthepointwherethepriesthadpaused，therewasoneofthosefantasticallycarvedstonegutterswithwhichGothicedificesbristle，and，inacreviceofthatgutter，twoprettywallflowersinblossom，shakenoutandvivified，asitwere，bythebreathofair，madefrolicsomesalutationstoeachother。Abovethetowers，onhigh，farawayinthedepthsofthesky，thecriesoflittlebirdswereheard。

Butthepriestwasnotlisteningto，wasnotlookingat，anythingofallthis。Hewasoneofthemenforwhomtherearenomornings，nobirds，noflowers。Inthatimmensehorizon，whichassumedsomanyaspectsabouthim，hiscontemplationwasconcentratedonasinglepoint。

Quasimodowasburningtoaskhimwhathehaddonewiththegypsy；butthearchdeaconseemedtobeoutoftheworldatthatmoment。Hewasevidentlyinoneofthoseviolentmomentsoflifewhenonewouldnotfeeltheearthcrumble。

Heremainedmotionlessandsilent，withhiseyessteadilyfixedonacertainpoint；andtherewassomethingsoterribleaboutthissilenceandimmobilitythatthesavagebellringershudderedbeforeitanddarednotcomeincontactwithit。

Only，andthiswasalsoonewayofinterrogatingthearchdeacon，hefollowedthedirectionofhisvision，andinthiswaytheglanceoftheunhappydeafmanfelluponthePlacedeGrève。

Thushesawwhatthepriestwaslookingat。Theladderwaserectednearthepermanentgallows。ThereweresomepeopleandmanysoldiersinthePlace。Amanwasdraggingawhitething，fromwhichhungsomethingblack，alongthepavement。Thismanhaltedatthefootofthegallows。

HeresomethingtookplacewhichQuasimodocouldnotseeveryclearly。Itwasnotbecausehisonlyeyehadnotpreserveditslongrange，buttherewasagroupofsoldierswhichpreventedhisseeingeverything。Moreover，atthatmomentthesunappeared，andsuchafloodoflightoverflowedthehorizonthatonewouldhavesaidthatallthepointsinParis，spires，chimneys，gables，hadsimultaneouslytakenfire。

Meanwhile，themanbegantomounttheladder。ThenQuasimodosawhimagaindistinctly。Hewascarryingawomanonhisshoulder，ayounggirldressedinwhite；thatyounggirlhadanooseaboutherneck。Quasimodorecognizedher。

Itwasshe。

Themanreachedthetopoftheladder。Therehearrangedthenoose。Herethepriest，inordertoseethebetter，kneltuponthebalustrade。

Allatoncethemankickedawaytheladderabruptly，andQuasimodo，whohadnotbreathedforseveralmoments，beheldtheunhappychilddanglingattheendoftheropetwofathomsabovethepavement，withthemansquattingonhershoulders。

Theropemadeseveralgyrationsonitself，andQuasimodobeheldhorribleconvulsionsrunalongthegypsy’sbody。Thepriest，onhisside，withoutstretchedneckandeyesstartingfromhishead，contemplatedthishorriblegroupofthemanandtheyounggirl，——thespiderandthefly。

Atthemomentwhenitwasmosthorrible，thelaughofademon，alaughwhichonecanonlygiveventtowhenoneisnolongerhuman，burstforthonthepriest’slividface。

Quasimododidnothearthatlaugh，buthesawit。

Thebellringerretreatedseveralpacesbehindthearchdeacon，andsuddenlyhurlinghimselfuponhimwithfury，withhishugehandshepushedhimbythebackoverintotheabyssoverwhichDomClaudewasleaning。

Thepriestshrieked:"Damnation！"andfell。

Thespout，abovewhichhehadstood，arrestedhiminhisfall。Heclungtoitwithdesperatehands，and，atthemomentwhenheopenedhismouthtoutterasecondcry，hebeheldtheformidableandavengingfaceofQuasimodothrustovertheedgeofthebalustradeabovehishead。

Thenhewassilent。

Theabysswastherebelowhim。Afallofmorethantwohundredfeetandthepavement。

Inthisterriblesituation，thearchdeaconsaidnotaword，utterednotagroan。Hemerelywritheduponthespout，withincredibleeffortstoclimbupagain；buthishandshadnoholdonthegranite，hisfeetslidalongtheblackenedwallwithoutcatchingfast。PeoplewhohaveascendedthetowersofNotre-Dameknowthatthereisaswellofthestoneimmediatelybeneaththebalustrade。Itwasonthisretreatinganglethatmiserablearchdeaconexhaustedhimself。Hehadnottodealwithaperpendicularwall，butwithonewhichslopedawaybeneathhim。

Quasimodohadbuttostretchouthishandinordertodrawhimfromthegulf；buthedidnotevenlookathim。HewaslookingattheGrève。Hewaslookingatthegallows。Hewaslookingatthegypsy。

Thedeafmanwasleaning，withhiselbowsonthebalustrade，atthespotwherethearchdeaconhadbeenamomentbefore，andthere，neverdetachinghisgazefromtheonlyobjectwhichexistedforhimintheworldatthatmoment，heremainedmotionlessandmute，likeamanstruckbylightning，andalongstreamoftearsflowedinsilencefromthateyewhich，uptothattime，hadnevershedbutonetear。

Meanwhile，thearchdeaconwaspanting。Hisbaldbrowwasdrippingwithperspiration，hisnailswerebleedingagainstthestones，hiskneeswereflayedbythewall。

Heheardhiscassock，whichwascaughtonthespout，crackandripateveryjerkthathegaveit。Tocompletehismisfortune，thisspoutendedinaleadenpipewhichbentundertheweightofhisbody。Thearchdeaconfeltthispipeslowlygivingway。Themiserablemansaidtohimselfthat，whenhishandsshouldbewornoutwithfatigue，whenhiscassockshouldtearasunder，whentheleadshouldgiveway，hewouldbeobligedtofall，andterrorseizeduponhisveryvitals。

Nowandthenheglancedwildlyatasortofnarrowshelfformed，tenfeetlowerdown，byprojectionsofthesculpture，andheprayedheaven，fromthedepthsofhisdistressedsoul，thathemightbeallowedtofinishhislife，wereittolasttwocenturies，onthatspacetwofeetsquare。Once，heglancedbelowhimintothePlace，intotheabyss；theheadwhichheraisedagainhaditseyesclosedanditshairstandingerect。

Therewassomethingfrightfulinthesilenceofthesetwomen。Whilethearchdeaconagonizedinthisterriblefashionafewfeetbelowhim，QuasimodoweptandgazedattheGrève。

Thearchdeacon，seeingthatallhisexertionsservedonlytoweakenthefragilesupportwhichremainedtohim，decidedtoremainquiet。Therehehung，embracingthegutter，hardlybreathing，nolongerstirring，makingnolongeranyothermovementsthanthatmechanicalconvulsionofthestomach，whichoneexperiencesindreamswhenonefancieshimselffalling。Hisfixedeyeswerewideopenwithastare。Helostgroundlittlebylittle，nevertheless，hisfingersslippedalongthespout；hebecamemoreandmoreconsciousofthefeeblenessofhisarmsandtheweightofhisbody。Thecurveoftheleadwhichsustainedhiminclinedmoreandmoreeachinstanttowardstheabyss。

Hebeheldbelowhim，afrightfulthing，theroofofSaint-

JeanleRond，assmallasacardfoldedintwo。Hegazedattheimpressivecarvings，onebyone，ofthetower，suspendedlikehimselfovertheprecipice，butwithoutterrorforthemselvesorpityforhim。Allwasstonearoundhim；beforehiseyes，gapingmonsters；below，quiteatthebottom，inthePlace，thepavement；abovehishead，Quasimodoweeping。

IntheParvistherewereseveralgroupsofcuriousgoodpeople，whoweretranquillyseekingtodivinewhothemadmancouldbewhowasamusinghimselfinsostrangeamanner。

Thepriestheardthemsaying，fortheirvoicesreachedhim，clearandshrill:"Why，hewillbreakhisneck！"

Quasimodowept。

Atlastthearchdeacon，foamingwithrageanddespair，understoodthatallwasinvain。Nevertheless，hecollectedallthestrengthwhichremainedtohimforafinaleffort。Hestiffenedhimselfuponthespout，pushedagainstthewallwithbothhisknees，clungtoacreviceinthestoneswithhishands，andsucceededinclimbingbackwithonefoot，perhaps；butthiseffortmadetheleadenbeakonwhichherestedbendabruptly。Hiscassockburstopenatthesametime。Then，feelingeverythinggivewaybeneathhim，withnothingbuthisstiffenedandfailinghandstosupporthim，theunfortunatemanclosedhiseyesandletgoofthespout。

Hefell。

Quasimodowatchedhimfall。

Afallfromsuchaheightisseldomperpendicular。Thearchdeacon，launchedintospace，fellatfirstheadforemost，withoutspreadhands；thenhewhirledoverandovermanytimes；thewindblewhimupontheroofofahouse，wheretheunfortunatemanbegantobreakup。Nevertheless，hewasnotdeadwhenhereachedthere。Thebellringersawhimstillendeavortoclingtoagablewithhisnails；butthesurfaceslopedtoomuch，andhehadnomorestrength。Heslidrapidlyalongtherooflikealoosenedtile，anddasheduponthepavement。Therehenolongermoved。

ThenQuasimodoraisedhiseyestothegypsy，whosebodyhebeheldhangingfromthegibbet，quiveringfarawaybeneathherwhiterobewiththelastshudderingsofanguish，thenhedroppedthemonthearchdeacon，stretchedoutatthebaseofthetower，andnolongerretainingthehumanform，andhesaid，withasobwhichheavedhisdeepchest，——

"Oh！allthatIhaveeverloved！"

CHAPTERIII。

THEMARRIAGEOFPHOEBUS。

Towardseveningonthatday，whenthejudiciaryofficersofthebishopcametopickupfromthepavementoftheParvisthedislocatedcorpseofthearchdeacon，Quasimodohaddisappeared。

Agreatmanyrumorswereincirculationwithregardtothisadventure。Noonedoubtedbutthatthedayhadcomewhen，inaccordancewiththeircompact，Quasimodo，thatistosay，thedevil，wastocarryoffClaudeFrollo，thatistosay，thesorcerer。Itwaspresumedthathehadbrokenthebodywhentakingthesoul，likemonkeyswhobreaktheshelltogetatthenut。

Thisiswhythearchdeaconwasnotinterredinconsecratedearth。

LouisXI。diedayearlater，inthemonthofAugust，1483。

AsforPierreGringoire，hesucceededinsavingthegoat，andhewonsuccessintragedy。Itappearsthat，afterhavingtastedastrology，philosophy，architecture，hermetics，——allvanities，hereturnedtotragedy，vainestpursuitofall。Thisiswhathecalled"comingtoatragicend。"Thisiswhatistoberead，onthesubjectofhisdramatictriumphs，in1483，intheaccountsofthe"Ordinary:""ToJehanMarchandandPierreGringoire，carpenterandcomposer，whohavemadeandcomposedthemysterymadeattheCh？teletofParis，attheentryofMonsieurtheLegate，andhaveorderedthepersonages，clothedanddressedthesame，asinthesaidmysterywasrequired；andlikewise，forhavingmadethescaffoldingstheretonecessary；andforthisdeed，——onehundredlivres。"

PhoebusdeChateaupersalsocametoatragicend。Hemarried。

CHAPTERIV。

THEMARRIAGEOFQUASIMODO。

WehavejustsaidthatQuasimododisappearedfromNotre-

Dameonthedayofthegypsy’sandofthearchdeacon’sdeath。

Hewasnotseenagain，infact；nooneknewwhathadbecomeofhim。

DuringthenightwhichfollowedtheexecutionoflaEsmeralda，thenightmenhaddetachedherbodyfromthegibbet，andhadcarriedit，accordingtocustom，tothecellarofMontfau？on。

Montfau？onwas，asSauvalsays，"themostancientandthemostsuperbgibbetinthekingdom。"BetweenthefaubourgsoftheTempleandSaintMartin，aboutahundredandsixtytoisesfromthewallsofParis，afewbowshotsfromLaCourtille，therewastobeseenonthecrestofagentle，almostimperceptibleeminence，butsufficientlyelevatedtobeseenforseveralleaguesroundabout，anedificeofstrangeform，bearingconsiderableresemblancetoaCelticcromlech，andwherealsohumansacrificeswereoffered。

Letthereaderpicturetohimself，crowningalimestonehillock，anoblongmassofmasonryfifteenfeetinheight，thirtywide，fortylong，withagate，anexternalrailingandaplatform；

onthisplatformsixteenenormouspillarsofroughhewnstone，thirtyfeetinheight，arrangedinacolonnaderoundthreeofthefoursidesofthemasswhichsupportthem，boundtogetherattheirsummitsbyheavybeams，whencehungchainsatintervals；

onallthesechains，skeletons；inthevicinity，ontheplain，astonecrossandtwogibbetsofsecondaryimportance，whichseemedtohavesprungupasshootsaroundthecentralgallows；

aboveallthis，inthesky，aperpetualflockofcrows；thatwasMontfau？on。

Attheendofthefifteenthcentury，theformidablegibbetwhichdatedfrom1328，wasalreadyverymuchdilapidated；

thebeamswerewormeaten，thechainsrusted，thepillarsgreenwithmould；thelayersofhewnstonewereallcrackedattheirjoints，andgrasswasgrowingonthatplatformwhichnofeettouched。Themonumentmadeahorribleprofileagainstthesky；especiallyatnightwhentherewasalittlemoonlightonthosewhiteskulls，orwhenthebreezeofeveningbrushedthechainsandtheskeletons，andswayedalltheseinthedarkness。Thepresenceofthisgibbetsufficedtorendergloomyallthesurroundingplaces。

Themassofmasonrywhichservedasfoundationtotheodiousedificewashollow。Ahugecellarhadbeenconstructedthere，closedbyanoldirongrating，whichwasoutoforder，intowhichwerecastnotonlythehumanremains，whichweretakenfromthechainsofMontfau？on，butalsothebodiesofalltheunfortunatesexecutedontheotherpermanentgibbetsofParis。Tothatdeepcharnel-house，wheresomanyhumanremainsandsomanycrimeshaverottedincompany，manygreatonesofthisworld，manyinnocentpeople，havecontributedtheirbones，fromEnguerranddeMarigni，thefirstvictim，andajustman，toAdmiraldeColigni，whowasitslast，andwhowasalsoajustman。

AsforthemysteriousdisappearanceofQuasimodo，thisisallthatwehavebeenabletodiscover。

Abouteighteenmonthsortwoyearsaftertheeventswhichterminatethisstory，whensearchwasmadeinthatcavernforthebodyofOlivierleDaim，whohadbeenhangedtwodayspreviously，andtowhomCharlesVIII。hadgrantedthefavorofbeingburiedinSaintLaurent，inbettercompany，theyfoundamongallthosehideouscarcassestwoskeletons，oneofwhichheldtheotherinitsembrace。Oneoftheseskeletons，whichwasthatofawoman，stillhadafewstripsofagarmentwhichhadoncebeenwhite，andaroundherneckwastobeseenastringofadrézarachbeadswithalittlesilkbagornamentedwithgreenglass，whichwasopenandempty。

Theseobjectswereofsolittlevaluethattheexecutionerhadprobablynotcaredforthem。Theother，whichheldthisoneinacloseembrace，wastheskeletonofaman。Itwasnoticedthathisspinalcolumnwascrooked，hisheadseatedonhisshoulderblades，andthatonelegwasshorterthantheother。

Moreover，therewasnofractureofthevertebraeatthenapeoftheneck，anditwasevidentthathehadnotbeenhanged。

Hence，themantowhomithadbelongedhadcomethitherandhaddiedthere。Whentheytriedtodetachtheskeletonwhichheheldinhisembrace，hefelltodust。

NOTE

ADDEDTOTHEDEFINITIVEEDITION。

Itisbymistakethatthiseditionwasannouncedasaugmentedbymanynewchapters。Thewordshouldhavebeenunpublished。Infact，ifbynew，newlymadeistobeunderstood，thechaptersaddedtothiseditionarenotnew。

Theywerewrittenatthesametimeastherestofthework；

theydatefromthesameepoch，andsprangfromthesamethought，theyhavealwaysformedapartofthemanuscriptof"Notre-Dame-de-Paris。"Moreover，theauthorcannotcomprehendhowfreshdevelopmentscouldbeaddedtoaworkofthischaracterafteritscompletion。Thisisnottobedoneatwill。Accordingtohisidea，aromanceisborninamannerthatis，insomesort，necessary，withallitschapters；adramaisbornwithallitsscenes。Thinknotthatthereisanythingarbitraryinthenumbersofpartsofwhichthatwhole，thatmysteriousmicrocosmwhichyoucalladramaoraromance，iscomposed。Graftingandsolderingtakebadlyonworksofthisnature，whichshouldgushforthinasinglestreamandsoremain。Thethingoncedone，donotchangeyourmind，donottouchitup。Thebookoncepublished，thesexofthework，whethervirileornot，hasbeenrecognizedandproclaimed；whenthechildhasonceutteredhisfirstcryheisborn，thereheis，heismadeso，neitherfathernormothercandoanything，hebelongstotheairandtothesun，lethimliveordie，suchasheis。Hasyourbookbeenafailure？

Somuchtheworse。Addnochapterstoanunsuccessfulbook。Isitincomplete？Youshouldhavecompleteditwhenyouconceivedit。Isyourtreecrooked？Youcannotstraightenitup。Isyourromanceconsumptive？Isyourromancenotcapableofliving？Youcannotsupplyitwiththebreathwhichitlacks。Hasyourdramabeenbornlame？

Takemyadvice，anddonotprovideitwithawoodenleg。

Hencetheauthorattachesparticularimportancetothepublicknowingforacertaintythatthechaptershereaddedhavenotbeenmadeexpresslyforthisreprint。Theywerenotpublishedintheprecedingeditionsofthebookforaverysimplereason。Atthetimewhen"Notre-Dame-de-Paris"wasprintedthefirsttime，themanuscriptofthesethreechaptershadbeenmislaid。Itwasnecessarytorewritethemortodispensewiththem。Theauthorconsideredthattheonlytwoofthesechapterswhichwereintheleastimportant，owingtotheirextent，werechaptersonartandhistorywhichinnowayinterferedwiththegroundworkofthedramaandtheromance，thatthepublicwouldnotnoticetheirloss，andthathe，theauthor，wouldalonebeinpossessionofthesecret。Hedecidedtoomitthem，andthen，ifthewholetruthmustbeconfessed，hisindolenceshrunkfromthetaskofrewritingthethreelostchapters。Hewouldhavefounditashortermattertomakeanewromance。

Nowthechaptershavebeenfound，andheavailshimselfofthefirstopportunitytorestorethemtotheirplace。

Thisnow，ishisentirework，suchashedreamedit，suchashemadeit，goodorbad，durableorfragile，butsuchashewishesit。

Theserecoveredchapterswillpossessnodoubt，butlittlevalueintheeyesofpersons，otherwiseveryjudicious，whohavesoughtin"Notre-Dame-de-Paris"onlythedrama，theromance。Butthereareperchance，otherreaders，whohavenotfoundituselesstostudytheaestheticandphilosophicthoughtconcealedinthisbook，andwhohavetakenpleasure，whilereading"Notre-Dame-de-Paris，"inunravellingbeneaththeromancesomethingelsethantheromance，andinfollowing(maywebepardonedtheseratherambitiousexpressions)，thesystemofthehistorianandtheaimoftheartistthroughthecreationofthepoet。

Forsuchpeopleespecially，thechaptersaddedtothiseditionwillcomplete"Notre-Dame-de-Paris，"ifweadmitthat"Notre-Dame-de-Paris"wasworththetroubleofcompleting。

Inoneofthesechaptersonthepresentdecadenceofarchitecture，andonthedeath(inhismindalmostinevitable)

ofthatkingofarts，theauthorexpressesanddevelopsanopinionunfortunatelywellrootedinhim，andwellthoughtout。Buthefeelsitnecessarytosayherethatheearnestlydesiresthatthefuturemay，someday，puthiminthewrong。Heknowsthatartinallitsformshaseverythingtohopefromthenewgenerationswhosegenius，stillinthegerm，canbeheardgushingforthinourstudios。Thegrainisinthefurrow，theharvestwillcertainlybefine。Hemerelyfears，andthereasonmaybeseeninthesecondvolumeofthisedition，thatthesapmayhavebeenwithdrawnfromthatancientsoilofarchitecturewhichhasbeenforsomanycenturiesthebestfieldforart。

Nevertheless，thereareto-dayintheartisticyouthsomuchlife，power，and，sotospeak，predestination，thatinourschoolsofarchitectureinparticular，atthepresenttime，theprofessors，whoaredetestable，produce，notonlyunconsciouslybuteveninspiteofthemselves，excellentpupils；quitethereverseofthatpottermentionedbyHorace，whodreamedamphoraeandproducedpots。~Curritrota，urcensexit~。

But，inanycase，whatevermaybethefutureofarchitecture，inwhatevermannerouryoungarchitectsmayonedaysolvethequestionoftheirart，letus，whilewaitingfornewmonument，preservetheancientmonuments。Letus，ifpossible，inspirethenationwithalovefornationalarchitecture。That，theauthordeclares，isoneoftheprincipalaimsofthisbook；

itisoneoftheprincipalaimsofhislife。

"Notre-Dame-de-Paris"has，perhapsopenedsometrueperspectivesontheartoftheMiddleAges，onthatmarvellousartwhichuptothepresenttimehasbeenunknowntosome，and，whatisworse，misknownbyothers。Buttheauthorisfarfromregardingasaccomplished，thetaskwhichhehasvoluntarilyimposedonhimself。Hehasalreadypleadedonmorethanoneoccasion，thecauseofourancientarchitecture，hehasalreadyloudlydenouncedmanyprofanations，manydemolitions，manyimpieties。Hewillnotgrowweary。Hehaspromisedhimselftorecurfrequentlytothissubject。Hewillreturntoit。Hewillbeasindefatigableindefendingourhistoricaledificesasouriconoclastsoftheschoolsandacademiesareeagerinattackingthem；foritisagrievousthingtoseeintowhathandsthearchitectureoftheMiddleAgeshasfallen，andinwhatamannerthebotchersofplasterofthepresentdaytreattheruinofthisgrandart，itisevenashameforusintelligentmenwhoseethematworkandcontentourselveswithhootingthem。Andwearenotspeakingheremerelyofwhatgoesonintheprovinces，butofwhatisdoneinParisatourverydoors，beneathourwindows，inthegreatcity，intheletteredcity，inthecityofthepress，ofword，ofthought。Wecannotresisttheimpulsetopointout，inconcludingthisnote，someoftheactsofvandalismwhichareeverydayplanned，debated，begun，continued，andsuccessfullycompletedundertheeyesoftheartisticpublicofParis，facetofacewithcriticism，whichisdisconcertedbysomuchaudacity。Anarchbishop’spalacehasjustbeendemolished，anedificeinpoortaste，nogreatharmisdone；butinablockwiththearchiepiscopalpalaceabishop’spalacehasbeendemolished，ararefragmentofthefourteenthcentury，whichthedemolishingarchitectcouldnotdistinguishfromtherest。

Hehastornupthewheatwiththetares；’tisallthesame。

TheyaretalkingofrazingtheadmirablechapelofVincennes，inordertomake，withitsstones，somefortification，whichDaumesnildidnotneed，however。WhilethePalaisBourbon，thatwretchededifice，isbeingrepairedatgreatexpense，gustsofwindandequinoctialstormsareallowedtodestroythemagnificentpaintedwindowsoftheSainte-Chapelle。ForthelastfewdaystherehasbeenascaffoldingonthetowerofSaintJacquesdelaBoucherie；andoneofthesemorningsthepickwillbelaidtoit。AmasonhasbeenfoundtobuildalittlewhitehousebetweenthevenerabletowersofthePalaisde-Justice。AnotherhasbeenfoundwillingtopruneawaySaint-Germain-des-Pres，thefeudalabbeywiththreebelltowers。Anotherwillbefound，nodoubt，capableofpullingdownSaint-Germainl’Auxerrois。Allthesemasonsclaimtobearchitects，arepaidbytheprefectureorfromthepettybudget，andweargreencoats。Alltheharmwhichfalsetastecaninflictongoodtaste，theyaccomplish。Whilewewrite，deplorablespectacle！oneofthemholdspossessionoftheTuileries，oneofthemisgivingPhilibertDelormeascaracrossthemiddleofhisface；anditisnot，assuredly，oneoftheleastofthescandalsofourtimetoseewithwhateffronterytheheavyarchitectureofthisgentlemanisbeingflattenedoveroneofthemostdelicatefa？adesoftheRenaissance！

PARIS，October20，1832。

End