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巴黎圣母院|Notre-Dame de Paris

Book 8 Chapter 1 The Crown Changed Into A Dry Leaf

属类： 双语小说 【分类】世界名著 -[作者: 维克多-雨果] 阅读：[34226]
Book 8 Chapter 1 The Crown Changed Into A Dry Leaf
《 字+字- 行+行- 页+页- 字+字- 行+行- 页+页- 》
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甘果瓦和圣迹区所有的人全都是心情极其不安，他们已经整整一个月不知道拉·爱斯梅拉达遇到了什么事情，这使得埃及公爵和他的乞丐朋友们非常忧虑，也不知道她的山羊遇到了什么事情，这使得甘果瓦加倍苦恼。那个埃及姑娘在一天傍晚失踪了，以后就再没有半点能够表明她还活着的迹象。

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一切寻访都是枉然。有几个乞丐告诉甘果瓦，说那天傍晚曾经看见她同一个军官在圣米歇尔桥一带行走。但这位按照波希米亚人风俗结了婚的丈夫是一个怀疑派哲学家，而且他比谁都明白自己的妻子是象圣处女一般贞洁，他完全能断定符箓的魔力和埃及姑娘的贞洁合起来是何等不易破坏，而且他也用数学方式计算过这种贞节对另一种力量的反抗。因此他在这方面倒是挺放心的。

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但他还是弄不清她这次失踪是怎么回事，他深为愁苦。假若他能够比当时更瘦，那他一定会更瘦下去啦。他为此把一切都淡忘了，连他对文学的兴趣，连他的大作《论正确的和不正确的形象》都淡忘了，他本来是打算一弄到钱就马上印行的。（自从看见了用万德兰·德·斯比尔的最好的活字印成的圣维克多·雨盖斯的《学说》一书之后，他就崇拜起印刷术来了。）

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有一天他悲伤地经过杜尔内尔刑事监狱，看见有一群人聚集在司法宫的一个大门口。

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“那里有什么事？”他向一个从司法宫走出来的年轻人问道。

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“我不知道呀，先生。”那年轻人回答，“说是要审问一个刺杀了侍从武官的女人哩。那个案子好象有些巫术成分，所以主教和宗教审判官都参加审问，我的哥哥，若扎斯的副主教，把全部时间都花在上面啦。我想同他说话，可是人太多，我到不了他的跟前。这可使我苦恼透顶啦，我正需要钱呀。”

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“哎，先生，”甘果瓦说，“我倒愿意借钱给你，可是我的衣袋虽然全是破洞，却并不是装钱装破了的。”

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他不敢告诉那年轻人说自己认识他的哥哥。自从在教堂里那次见面之后，他再也没有去找过副主教，想起这种疏忽他就觉得难为情。

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那个学生径自走了。甘果瓦跟着人群沿着大阶梯往上向大厅走去。照他看来，审问案子之类并不能消愁解闷，法官们通常是愚笨可笑的家伙。他走在人群里，大家默默地互相挤着往前走。当他走完了一条又长又暗的回廊，这条回廊象所有古老建筑里曲折的沟渠一样，蜿蜒在司法宫里，他来到了开向大厅的一扇低矮的门前，这样，个子挺高的甘果瓦就能越过人们波动的头颅望进去了。

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大厅又宽阔又阴暗，因此显得更大。太阳落西了，尖拱形的长窗上透进一线仅有的淡弱的夕阳，还没有照到巨大的有雕饰的尖拱形屋架的铁栅上就已经消失，那成千的雕刻仿佛在阴影里晃动。桌子上已经点起了几根蜡烛，烛光照着注视着大堆纸张的书记们的脑袋。大厅的前一部分完全被群众占据了，左右两旁有些穿长袍的男人坐在桌前，大厅尽头一个高高的台子前坐着好几排法官，最后的一排隐在暗中看不清，他们的脸色全都冷漠无情。墙壁上装饰着无数百合花纹，可以看到一个巨大的耶稣受难十字架突出在法官们的头顶上。这里那里竖立着好些枪戟，烛光照着它们的尖头，形成了一朵朵火焰。

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“先生，”甘果瓦向他身边的一个人问道，“象教士公会的高级教士一样排在那边的是些什么人呀？”

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“先生，”旁边那个人回答道，“右边是大理院的议员们，左边是些参事官，穿黑袍的那些是公证人，穿红袍的那些是律师。”

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“那边那个满头大汗的红脸大个子是什么人呢？”

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“那是院长先生。”

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“他身后那些公羊呢？”甘果瓦又问。我们已经说过，他是不喜欢官吏的，这也许是出于他的戏剧在司法宫上演失败后产生的怨恨吧。

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“那是王宫大厦的查案官们。”

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“他前面那头野猪呢？”

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“那是大理院的书记官先生。”

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“他右边那条鳄鱼呢？”

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“那是菲立浦·勒里耶阁下，国王的特别律师。”

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“左边那只大黑猫呢？”

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“那是雅克·沙尔莫吕阁下，王室宗教法庭的检察官，同他在一起的是宗教审判官们。”

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“可是，先生，”甘果瓦问道，“那些家伙在那里干什么呀？”

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“他们在审案子。”

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“他们审问谁呢？我并没有看见被告。”

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“是审问一个女人呀，先生。你看不见她，她背朝着我们，人们把她挡住了。看呀，她就在那边一排枪戟的地方。”

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“那个女人是谁呢？”甘果瓦问道，“你知道她的姓名吗？”

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“不知道呀，先生，我刚来。不过我想大概是个巫术案吧，因为宗教审判官参加审问呢。”

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“得啦！”我们的哲学家说道，“我们可会看见这些穿长袍的家伙吃人肉了。这种场面总是老一套！”

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“先生，”他身边那个人提醒道，“你不觉得雅克·沙尔莫吕的神气挺温和吗？”

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“哼！”甘果瓦答道，“我可不相信那个尖鼻子薄嘴唇的家伙有什么温和。”

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这时旁边的人叫这两个谈话的人肃静，正在审问一个重要证人呢。

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“大人们，”大厅中央一个老妇人说道，她的脸孔完全被衣服遮住，使她看起来好象一堆会走路的破布。“大人们，事情就跟我名叫法洛代尔一样真实，我在圣米歇尔桥住了四十年啦，每年按时交付房租、捐税和利息。我家大门正对着河流上游洗染商人达山·加以雅的房子。我现在是个穷苦的老妇人，从前却是个漂亮姑娘呢，大人们！好久以前就有人告诉我：‘别老在晚上纺纱吧，魔鬼可喜欢用他的犄角梳理老妇们的纱线呢。真的，去年在庙堂旁边的那个妖僧，现在正在旧城区里到处乱窜。法洛代尔，当心别让他来敲你的大门啊。’有一个晚上我正在纺纱，听见有人敲门。我问是谁，那人就骂开了。我开了门，走进来两个男人：一个黑衣人和一个漂亮的军官。那黑衣人身上除了一双跟烧红的煤块一样发亮的眼睛外，就只能看到他的斗篷和帽子了。他们告诉我要圣玛尔泰的房间，那是我楼上的一间房，大人们，是我最干净的一间房。他们给了我一个银币。我把那枚银币锁在抽屉里，心想明天可以拿这枚银币上肉铺去买点肉了。随后我们便上楼去。到了楼上的房间，我刚一转身，那个黑衣人便不见了，这可把我吓昏啦。那军官倒是一个象老爷般的体面人，他同我下了楼，便走出去了。当我把一绞纱线又纺了四分之一的时候，他同着一个漂亮的姑娘来啦，那姑娘要是好好打扮起来，一定会象太阳一般使你们眼花呢。她带着一只公山羊，是白山羊还是黑山羊，我可记不清了。这使我不能不考虑一下。那姑娘倒没什么关系，可是那只山羊呀！我不喜欢这种牲畜，它们都有胡须和犄角，象人似的，并且还带几分妖气。当时我可没说什么，我有银币就行了呗，不是吗，法官先生？我把那姑娘同那军官领到楼上的房间里去了。我让他俩单独在一起，就是说同那只山羊在一起。我又下楼纺起纱线来。应该告诉您，我的房子有一楼和二楼两层，后墙靠着河，象桥上别的房子一样，楼上楼下的窗户都是临河开的。我纺着纱线，不知为什么，那只公羊使我想起了妖僧，而且那姑娘的打扮又是那么古怪。突然，我听见楼上一声叫喊，听见什么东西倒在楼板上了，又听见打开窗户的声音。我跑进楼下我自己那个房间，看见一个黑影子在我眼前晃了一下便跳到河里去了，那是一个穿着神甫衣服的幽灵。那时月光很亮，所以我看得很清楚。那黑影向旧城区那边游去了。我全身发抖，跑去喊夜巡队。那十二位先生进来了，一开头不知怎么回事，因为他们都是醉醺醺的，倒把我揍了一顿。我向他们解释了一番，便同他们上楼去，我们看见的是什么呀？我那可怜的房间里全是血，军官直挺挺地躺在血泊里，脖子上插着一把尖刀。姑娘昏过去了，山羊吓呆了。‘得啦，’我想，‘我得花两个多星期来洗地板了，我得好好地擦洗一番，那太可怕啦！’ 大家把军官抬走了，那可怜的人！那姑娘上身完全赤裸着。等一等，还有更糟糕的事呢，第二天我打算把那枚银币拿去买肉，却看见放银币的地方放着一片干枯的树叶！”

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老妇人住口了。人群中响起一阵恐怖的低语。“那个幽灵，那只山羊，整个儿看来真象是有些巫术味儿。”甘果瓦身旁一个人说道。“还有那片干树叶！”另一个说道。“准定的，”第三个说，“准是女巫同妖僧商量好了去刺杀那个军官。”甚至甘果瓦自己，也觉得这一切又可怕又逼真。

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“法洛代尔老妇人，”院长庄严地说，“你再没有别的话向本庭陈述了吗？”

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“没有了，大人，”老妇人答道，“可是由于那件事，我的房子被人当成了肮脏可耻的地方，这是欺侮人呀。桥上的房子外表的确不怎么好看，因为住户太多了，但屠夫们还是喜欢住在那里，他们都是有钱人，都是同挺正经的女人结了婚的呢。”

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这时，甘果瓦认为象条鳄鱼的那个官儿站起来了。“肃静！我请先生们不要忽视在被告身上发现的一把尖刀。幽灵给你的银币变成的枯叶你带来了吗？”

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“带来了，大人，”她回答道，“我找到啦。在这里。”

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一个传令官把那片枯叶递给鳄鱼，鳄鱼阴郁地摇摇头，把它递给了院长，院长又把它递给王室宗教法庭检察官，就这样传遍了整个大厅。“这是一片赤杨叶，”雅克·沙尔莫吕说，“这是巫术的新证据。”

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一个议员发言了：“显然，同时到你楼上去的是两个男人：一个是你起先看着他不见了，后来又跳到河里去的那个黑衣人，一个是那个军官。给你银币的是两人里头的哪一个呀？”

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老妇人想了一想答道：“是那个军官。”人群中响起一片喧闹声。

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“啊，”甘果瓦想，“这可叫我弄不明白了。”

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这时，国王的特别律师菲立浦·勒里耶阁下重新插话了：“我提醒先生们，那被刺的军官在枕边写的诉状里宣称，当那个黑衣人——很可能就是那个妖僧——勾引他的时候，他的思想非常混乱，再加那个幽灵又逼他去同被告相会，据那军官说，因为他身边没带钱，那幽灵便把刚才说是军官给老妇人的那枚银币给了他。那么这枚银币是地狱里来的了。”

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这个结论性的意见，仿佛把甘果瓦和其余听众的疑惑打消了。

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“各位先生都有案卷，”国王的律师坐下说，“可以查查弗比斯·德·沙多倍尔的诉状呀。”

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被告一听到这个名字便站起来了，她的头高出人群，惊恐的甘果瓦认出了她就是拉·爱斯梅拉达。

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她面色苍白，往常梳成漂亮的辫子并且缠着金箔条的头发，此刻蓬乱地披垂着，她的嘴唇发青，眼睛深深地陷进去了。唉！

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“弗比斯！”她疯狂地喊道，“他在哪儿呀？啊，大人们，在你们把我杀死以前，请行行好，告诉我他是否还活着吧！”

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“别出声，女人！”院长说，“那可不干我们的事。”

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“啊，行行好，告诉我他是不是还活着呀！”她合着两只瘦瘦的手说。

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人们听见锁链顺着她的衣服发出声响。

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“得啦！”国王的律师无动于衷地说道，“他快死了，你可满意了吧？”

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那不幸的人一下子倒在她的座位上，既不出声也不流泪，脸色苍白得如同一尊蜡像。

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院长俯身向一个坐在他脚边的人说（那人戴着金色帽子，穿着黑色袍子，脖子上挂着一条铁链，手里拿着笞杖）：“传令官，带第二个被告！”

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所有的眼睛都望着一扇小门，它打开来了，甘果瓦全身脉搏剧烈跳动着，看见门里走出了一只金脚爪的漂亮山羊。那优美的牲畜在门槛上停留了片刻，伸长着脖子，好象站在一个悬崖边上望着辽阔的天际。忽然它看见了那个姑娘，便从一张桌子和一个书记官的头上跳过去，两下就跳上了她的膝头。

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随后轻轻溜到女主人的脚前，讨求一句话或是一阵爱抚，可是那被告依旧纹丝不动，连可怜的加里都不能逗引她看上一眼。

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“啊，这就是那讨厌的畜牲，”老妇人法洛代尔说，“这两个我都认得很清楚！”

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雅克·沙尔莫吕插话道：“假若先生们高兴，我们要审问这只山羊了。”

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它就是那第二个被告。在当时，再没有什么比把一个动物判在巫术案件里更普遍的了。人们发现，在一四六六年的总督府账目里，就有审查吉莱·苏拉尔及其母猪 “为了他们的罪行被处死于果尔倍依”一案的费用那种奇怪的记载。那里面什么都记载着：有监禁母猪场所的租金，有拿到莫桑埠头去的五百捆木料，有三品脱的酒和面包，这是刽子手和受刑人友好地共同分享的最后一餐饭，还有在十一天内每天看守和饲养那头母猪所用的八个巴黎德尼埃。有时甚至还审问动物以外的许多东西。查理曼法规和宽厚的路易要求严刑惩罚那些胆敢出现在光天化日之下的幽灵。

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这时王室宗教法庭检察官喊道：“假若那携带这只山羊的魔鬼，那破坏了驱魔法而继续用巫术惑众的妖魔，胆敢坚持他的罪行并且拿来吓唬法庭，我们就要警告他，我们不得不用火刑和绞刑来对付他了。”

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甘果瓦冒出了冷汗。沙尔莫吕从桌上拿起那埃及姑娘的手鼓，用一种特别的姿势举到那山羊跟前问道：“现在是几点钟？”

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山羊用聪明的眼睛望望他，举起金色的脚在鼓上敲了七下。那时正是七点，群众普遍显出害怕的样子。

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甘果瓦忍受不了了。

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“它要把自己毁啦！”他高声喊道，“你们明明看得出它不知道自己在做什么呀。”

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“大厅那一头的平民肃静！”传令官尖声喊道。

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沙尔莫吕借那小鼓的同样几个姿势的帮助，让山羊表演了另外几种戏法，例如，要它指出当天是那一年的几月几日等等，这些戏法读者是早已看见过的。由于在审判，所以就引起错觉，那些在街头多次看见加里表演过这类无害戏法的观众，此刻在司法宫的拱顶下又重新看到时却惊吓起来，那只山羊肯定是魔鬼啦。

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还有更糟糕的事。当王室宗教法庭检察官把装在一只革制小荷包里的活动字母抖在桌上时，人们看见山羊用爪子把字母摆成那个要命的名字：弗比斯。人们就更加相信这便是那队长做了符咒牺牲品的有力证据，而且在大家的眼睛里，那个流浪姑娘，那往日曾以绝美的容貌使路人目眩神迷的舞蹈家，现在竟被当成了一个凶恶的女巫。

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她好象一点生气都没有了，不管是加里的表演还是检察官的恫吓，或是人们的低声咒骂，她全都毫不注意。

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为了使她清醒，一个军卒就跑去狠狠地摇她，同时大理院院长提高嗓门严厉地说道：“姑娘，你是波希米亚族人，是惯会做不正当的事情的。你同你那只牵连到这个案件里的山羊，在三月二十九号那天晚上，串通地狱的势力，凭借魔法和非法手段，谋害了，刺杀了一位近卫弓箭队队长弗比斯·德·沙多倍尔。你还不招认吗？”

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“可怕呀！”姑娘用双手捂着脸孔说，“我的弗比斯！啊，这真是地狱！”

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“你还不招认吗？”院长冷冰冰地问。

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“当然我不承认！”她用可怕的声音说道。她两眼发光地站起身来。

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院长直截了当地接着问道：“那么你怎样解释你做这件事的动机？”

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她用斩钉截铁的口气回答：“我已经说过了。我不知道。那是一个神甫干的，一个我不认识的神甫，一个跟踪我的凶恶的神甫！”

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“就是这么回事，”法官说，“就是那个妖僧。”

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“啊，大人们！行行好吧，我不过是一个可怜的姑娘……”

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“一个埃及姑娘。”法官说。

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雅克·沙尔莫吕阁下用柔和的声音发言了：“由于被告这种可悲的固执，我请求用刑。”

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“同意！”院长说。

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那不幸的姑娘全身战栗起来，但她依然听从那些荷戟的警卫的吩咐，站起身来，被沙尔莫吕和几个宗教法庭神甫带领着，夹在两排荷戟的警卫当中，用相当坚定的脚步向一道便门走去。便门忽然打开来，她刚一进去就又重新关上。伤心的甘果瓦觉得那仿佛是一张大嘴把她吞没了。

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她消失在那道便门里之后，人们听到一声伤心的咩咩叫。那是小山羊在哭它的女主人。

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审案的事停顿下来了，一位议员说大家都疲倦啦，要等到行刑结束却还得很长时间，院长回答说一个官员就应当为了职守而牺牲个人。

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“可恶的讨厌的贱货！”一个年老的法官说道，“她偏偏在人家还没吃晚饭的时候去受刑！”

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Gringoire and the entire Court of Miracles were suffering mortal anxiety. For a whole month they had not known what had become of la Esmeralda, which greatly pained the Duke of Egypt and his friends the vagabonds, nor what had become of the goat, which redoubled Gringoire’s grief. One evening the gypsy had disappeared, and since that time had given no signs of life. All search had proved fruitless. Some tormenting bootblacks had told Gringoire about meeting her that same evening near the Pont Saint-Michel, going off with an officer; but this husband, after the fashion of Bohemia, was an incredulous philosopher, and besides, he, better than any one else, knew to what a point his wife was virginal. He had been able to form a judgment as to the unconquerable modesty resulting from the combined virtues of the amulet and the gypsy, and he had mathematically calculated the resistance of that chastity to the second power. Accordingly, he was at ease on that score.

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Still he could not understand this disappearance. It was a profound sorrow. He would have grown thin over it, had that been possible. He had forgotten everything, even his literary tastes, even his great work, ~De figuris regularibus et irregularibus~, which it was his intention to have printed with the first money which he should procure (for he had raved over printing, ever since he had seen the "Didascalon" of Hugues de Saint Victor, printed with the celebrated characters of Vindelin de Spire).

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One day, as he was passing sadly before the criminal Tournelle, he perceived a considerable crowd at one of the gates of the Palais de Justice.

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"What is this?" he inquired of a young man who was coming out.

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"I know not, sir," replied the young man. "’Tis said that they are trying a woman who hath assassinated a gendarme. It appears that there is sorcery at the bottom of it, the archbishop and the official have intervened in the case, and my brother, who is the archdeacon of Josas, can think of nothing else. Now, I wished to speak with him, but I have not been able to reach him because of the throng, which vexes me greatly, as I stand in need of money."

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"Alas! sir," said Gringoire, "I would that I could lend you some, but, my breeches are worn to holes, and ’tis not crowns which have done it."

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He dared not tell the young man that he was acquainted with his brother the archdeacon, to whom he had not returned after the scene in the church; a negligence which embarrassed him.

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The scholar went his way, and Gringoire set out to follow the crowd which was mounting the staircase of the great chamber. In his opinion, there was nothing like the spectacle of a criminal process for dissipating melancholy, so exhilaratingly stupid are judges as a rule. The populace which he had joined walked and elbowed in silence. After a slow and tiresome march through a long, gloomy corridor, which wound through the court-house like the intestinal canal of the ancient edifice, he arrived near a low door, opening upon a hall which his lofty stature permitted him to survey with a glance over the waving heads of the rabble.

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The hall was vast and gloomy, which latter fact made it appear still more spacious. The day was declining; the long, pointed windows permitted only a pale ray of light to enter, which was extinguished before it reached the vaulted ceiling, an enormous trellis-work of sculptured beams, whose thousand figures seemed to move confusedly in the shadows, many candles were already lighted here and there on tables, and beaming on the heads of clerks buried in masses of documents. The anterior portion of the ball was occupied by the crowd; on the right and left were magistrates and tables; at the end, upon a platform, a number of judges, whose rear rank sank into the shadows, sinister and motionless faces. The walls were sown with innumerable fleurs-de-lis. A large figure of Christ might be vaguely descried above the judges, and everywhere there were pikes and halberds, upon whose points the reflection of the candles placed tips of fire.

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"Monsieur," Gringoire inquired of one of his neighbors, "who are all those persons ranged yonder, like prelates in council?"

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"Monsieur," replied the neighbor, "those on the right are the counsellors of the grand chamber; those on the left, the councillors of inquiry; the masters in black gowns, the messires in red."

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"Who is that big red fellow, yonder above them, who is sweating?" pursued Gringoire.

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"It is monsieur the president."

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"And those sheep behind him?" continued Gringoire, who as we have seen, did not love the magistracy, which arose, possibly, from the grudge which he cherished against the Palais de Justice since his dramatic misadventure.

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"They are messieurs the masters of requests of the king’s household."

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"And that boar in front of him?"

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"He is monsieur the clerk of the Court of Parliament."

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"And that crocodile on the right?"

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"Master Philippe Lheulier, advocate extraordinary of the king."

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"And that big, black tom-cat on the left?"

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"Master Jacques Charmolue, procurator of the king in the Ecclesiastical Court, with the gentlemen of the officialty."

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"Come now, monsieur, said Gringoire, "pray what are all those fine fellows doing yonder?"

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"They are judging."

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"Judging whom? I do not see the accused."

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"’Tis a woman, sir. You cannot see her. She has her back turned to us, and she is hidden from us by the crowd. Stay, yonder she is, where you see a group of partisans."

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"Who is the woman?" asked Gringoire. "Do you know her name?"

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"No, monsieur, I have but just arrived. I merely assume that there is some sorcery about it, since the official is present at the trial."

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"Come!" said our philosopher, "we are going to see all these magistrates devour human flesh. ’Tis as good a spectacle as any other."

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"Monsieur," remarked his neighbor, "think you not, that Master Jacques Charmolue has a very sweet air?"

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"Hum!" replied Gringoire. "I distrust a sweetness which hath pinched nostrils and thin lips."

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Here the bystanders imposed silence upon the two chatterers. They were listening to an important deposition.

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"Messeigneurs," said an old woman in the middle of the hall, whose form was so concealed beneath her garments that one would have pronounced her a walking heap of rags; "Messeigneurs, the thing is as true as that I am la Falourdel, established these forty years at the Pont Saint Michel, and paying regularly my rents, lord’s dues, and quit rents; at the gate opposite the house of Tassin-Caillart, the dyer, which is on the side up the river--a poor old woman now, but a pretty maid in former days, my lords. Some one said to me lately, ’La Falourdel, don’t use your spinning-wheel too much in the evening; the devil is fond of combing the distaffs of old women with his horns. ’Tis certain that the surly monk who was round about the temple last year, now prowls in the City. Take care, La Falourdel, that he doth not knock at your door.’ One evening I was spinning on my wheel, there comes a knock at my door; I ask who it is. They swear. I open. Two men enter. A man in black and a handsome officer. Of the black man nothing could be seen but his eyes, two coals of fire. All the rest was hat and cloak. They say to me,--’The Sainte-Marthe chamber.’--’Tis my upper chamber, my lords, my cleanest. They give me a crown. I put the crown in my drawer, and I say: ’This shall go to buy tripe at the slaughter-house of la Gloriette to-morrow.’ We go up stairs. On arriving at the upper chamber, and while my back is turned, the black man disappears. That dazed me a bit. The officer, who was as handsome as a great lord, goes down stairs again with me. He goes out. In about the time it takes to spin a quarter of a handful of flax, be returns with a beautiful young girl, a doll who would have shone like the sun had she been coiffed. She had with her a goat; a big billy- goat, whether black or white, I no longer remember. That set me to thinking. The girl does not concern me, but the goat! I love not those beasts, they have a beard and horns. They are so like a man. And then, they smack of the witches, sabbath. However, I say nothing. I had the crown. That is right, is it not, Monsieur Judge? I show the captain and the wench to the upper chamber, and I leave them alone; that is to say, with the goat. I go down and set to spinning again--I must inform you that my house has a ground floor and story above. I know not why I fell to thinking of the surly monk whom the goat had put into my head again, and then the beautiful girl was rather strangely decked out. All at once, I hear a cry upstairs, and something falls on the floor and the window opens. I run to mine which is beneath it, and I behold a black mass pass before my eyes and fall into the water. It was a phantom clad like a priest. It was a moonlight night. I saw him quite plainly. He was swimming in the direction of the city. Then, all of a tremble, I call the watch. The gentlemen of the police enter, and not knowing just at the first moment what the matter was, and being merry, they beat me. I explain to them. We go up stairs, and what do we find? my poor chamber all blood, the captain stretched out at full length with a dagger in his neck, the girl pretending to be dead, and the goat all in a fright. ’Pretty work!’ I say, ’I shall have to wash that floor for more than a fortnight. It will have to be scraped; it will be a terrible job.’ They carried off the officer, poor young man, and the wench with her bosom all bare. But wait, the worst is that on the next day, when I wanted to take the crown to buy tripe, I found a dead leaf in its place."

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The old woman ceased. A murmur of horror ran through the audience.

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"That phantom, that goat,--all smacks of magic," said one of Gringoire’s neighbors.

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"And that dry leaf!" added another.

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"No doubt about it," joined in a third, "she is a witch who has dealings with the surly monk, for the purpose of plundering officers."

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Gringoire himself was not disinclined to regard this as altogether alarming and probable.

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"Goody Falourdel," said the president majestically, "have you nothing more to communicate to the court?"

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"No, monseigneur," replied the crone, "except that the report has described my house as a hovel and stinking; which is an outrageous fashion of speaking. The houses on the bridge are not imposing, because there are such multitudes of people; but, nevertheless, the butchers continue to dwell there, who are wealthy folk, and married to very proper and handsome women."

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The magistrate who had reminded Gringoire of a crocodile rose,--

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Please sign in to unlock the rest

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"It is a birch leaf," said Master Jacques Charmolue. "A fresh proof of magic.

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A counsellor took up the word.

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