the hunchback of notre dame-第113节

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ou　will　take　pity　on　me；　will　you　not；　gentlemen？　The　gypsies　stole　her　from　me；　they　hid　her　from　me　for　fifteen　years。　　I　thought　her　dead。　　Fancy；　my　good　friends；　believed　her　to　be　dead。　　I　have　passed　fifteen　years　here　in　this　cellar；　without　a　fire　in　winter。　　It　is　hard。　　The　poor；　dear　little　shoe！　　I　have　cried　so　much　that　the　good　God　has　heard　me。　　This　night　he　has　given　my　daughter　back　to　me。　It　is　a　miracle　of　the　good　God。　　She　was　not　dead。　　You　will　not　take　her　from　me；　I　am　sure。　　If　it　were　myself；　I　would　say　nothing；　but　she；　a　child　of　sixteen！　　Leave　her　time　to　see　the　sun！　　What　has　she　done　to　you？　nothing　at　all。　　Nor　have　I。　　If　you　did　but　know　that　she　is　all　I　have；　that　I　am　old；　that　she　is　a　blessing　which　the　Holy　Virgin　has　sent　to　me！　　And　then；　you　are　all　so　good！　You　did　not　know　that　she　was　my　daughter；　but　now　you　do　know　it。　　Oh！　　I　love　her！　　Monsieur；　the　grand　provost。　I　would　prefer　a　stab　in　my　own　vitals　to　a　scratch　on　her　finger！　　You　have　the　air　of　such　a　good　lord！　　What　I　have　told　you　explains　the　matter；　does　it　not？　　Oh！　if　you　have　had　a　mother；　monsiegneur！　you　are　the　captain；　leave　me　my　child！　　Consider　that　I　pray　you　on　my　knees；　as　one　prays　to　Jesus　Christ！　　I　ask　nothing　of　any　one；　I　am　from　Reims；　gentlemen；　I　own　a　little　field　inherited　from　my　uncle；　Mahiet　Pradon。　　I　am　no　beggar。　　I　wish　nothing；　but　I　do　want　my　child！　oh！　　I　want　to　keep　my　child！　　The　good　God；　who　is　the　master；　has　not　given　her　back　to　me　for　nothing！　　The　king！　you　say　the　king！　　It　would　not　cause　him　much　pleasure　to　have　my　little　daughter　killed！　And　then；　the　king　is　good！　she　is　my　daughter！　she　is　my　own　daughter！　　She　belongs　not　to　the　king！　she　is　not　yours！　　I　want　to　go　away！　we　want　to　go　away！　and　when　two　women　pass；　one　a　mother　and　the　other　a　daughter；　one　lets　them　go！　　Let　us　pass！　we　belong　in　Reims。　　Oh！　you　are　very　good；　messieurs　the　sergeants；　I　love　you　all。　　You　will　not　take　my　dear　little　one；　it　is　impossible！　　It　is　utterly　impossible；　is　it　not？　　My　child；　my　child！〃

We　will　not　try　to　give　an　idea　of　her　gestures；　her　tone；　of　the　tears　which　she　swallowed　as　she　spoke；　of　the　hands　which　she　clasped　and　then　wrung；　of　the　heart…breaking　smiles；　of　the　swimming　glances；　of　the　groans；　the　sighs；　the　miserable　and　affecting　cries　which　she　mingled　with　her　disordered；　wild；　and　incoherent　words。　　When　she　became　silent　Tristan　l'Hermite　frowned；　but　it　was　to　conceal　a　tear　which　welled　up　in　his　tiger's　eye。　　He　conquered　this　weakness；　however；　and　said　in　a　curt　tone；

〃The　king　wills　it。〃

Then　he　bent　down　to　the　ear　of　Rennet　Cousin；　and　said　to　him　in　a　very　low　tone；

〃Make　an　end　of　it　quickly！〃　Possibly；　the　redoubtable　provost　felt　his　heart　also　failing　him。

The　executioner　and　the　sergeants　entered　the　cell。　　The　mother　offered　no　resistance；　only　she　dragged　herself　towards　her　daughter　and　threw　herself　bodily　upon　her。　The　gypsy　beheld　the　soldiers　approach。　　The　horror　of　death　reanimated　her；

〃Mother！〃　she　shrieked；　in　a　tone　of　indescribable　distress；　〃Mother！　they　are　coming！　defend　me！〃

〃Yes；　my　love；　I　am　defending　you！〃　replied　the　mother；　in　a　dying　voice；　and　clasping　her　closely　in　her　arms；　she　covered　her　with　kisses。　　The　two　lying　thus　on　the　earth；　the　mother　upon　the　daughter；　presented　a　spectacle　worthy　of　pity。

Rennet　Cousin　grasped　the　young　girl　by　the　middle　of　her　body；　beneath　her　beautiful　shoulders。　　When　she　felt　that　hand；　she　cried；　〃Heuh！〃　and　fainted。　　The　executioner　who　was　shedding　large　tears　upon　her；　drop　by　drop；　was　about　to　bear　her　away　in　his　arms。　　He　tried　to　detach　the　mother；　who　had；　so　to　speak；　knotted　her　hands　around　her　daughter's　waist；　but　she　clung　so　strongly　to　her　child；　that　it　was　impossible　to　separate　them。　　Then　Rennet　Cousin　dragged　the　young　girl　outside　the　cell；　and　the　mother　after　her。　　The　mother's　eyes　were　also　closed。

At　that　moment；　the　sun　rose；　and　there　was　already　on　the　Place　a　fairly　numerous　assembly　of　people　who　looked　on　from　a　distance　at　what　was　being　thus　dragged　along　the　pavement　to　the　gibbet。　　For　that　was　Provost　Tristan's　way　at　executions。　　He　had　a　passion　for　preventing　the　approach　of　the　curious。

There　was　no　one　at　the　windows。　　Only　at　a　distance；　at　the　summit　of　that　one　of　the　towers　of　Notre…Dame　which　commands　the　Grève；　two　men　outlined　in　black　against　the　light　morning　sky；　and　who　seemed　to　be　looking　on；　were　visible。

Rennet　Cousin　paused　at　the　foot　of　the　fatal　ladder；　with　that　which　he　was　dragging；　and；　barely　breathing；　with　so　much　pity　did　the　thing　inspire　him；　he　passed　the　rope　around　the　lovely　neck　of　the　young　girl。　　The　unfortunate　child　felt　the　horrible　touch　of　the　hemp。　　She　raised　her　eyelids；　and　saw　the　fleshless　arm　of　the　stone　gallows　extended　above　her　head。　　Then　she　shook　herself　and　shrieked　in　a　loud　and　heartrending　voice：　〃No！　no！　　I　will　not！〃　Her　mother；　whose　head　was　buried　and　concealed　in　her　daughter's　garments；　said　not　a　word；　only　her　whole　body　could　be　seen　to　quiver；　and　she　was　heard　to　redouble　her　kisses　on　her　child。　　The　executioner　took　advantage　of　this　moment　to　hastily　loose　the　arms　with　which　she　clasped　the　condemned　girl。　　Either　through　exhaustion　or　despair；　she　let　him　have　his　way。　　Then　he　took　the　young　girl　on　his　shoulder；　from　which　the　charming　creature　hung；　gracefully　bent　over　his　large　head。　　Then　he　set　his　foot　on　the　ladder　in　order　to　ascend。

At　that　moment；　the　mother　who　was　crouching　on　the　pavement；　opened　her　eyes　wide。　　Without　uttering　a　cry；　she　raised　herself　erect　with　a　terrible　expression；　then　she　flung　herself　upon　the　hand　of　the　executioner；　like　a　beast　on　its　prey；　and　bit　it。　　It　was　done　like　a　flash　of　lightning。　　The　headsman　howled　with　pain。　　Those　near　by　rushed　up。　With　difficulty　they　withdrew　his　bleeding　hand　from　the　mother's　teeth。　　She　preserved　a　profound　silence。　　They　thrust　her　back　with　much　brutality；　and　noticed　that　her　head　fell　heavily　on　the　pavement。　　They　raised　her；　she　fell　back　again。　　She　was　dead。

The　executioner；　who　had　not　loosed　his　hold　on　the　young　girl；　began　to　ascend　the　ladder　once　more。




CHAPTER　II。

THE　BEAUTIFUL　CREATURE　CLAD　IN　WHITE。　　（Dante。）



When　Quasimodo　saw　that　the　cell　was　empty；　that　the　gypsy　was　no　longer　there；　that　while　he　had　been　defending　her　she　had　been　abducted；　he　grasped　his　hair　with　both　hands　and　stamped　with　surprise　and　pain；　then　he　set　out　to　run　through　the　entire　church　seeking　his　Bohemian；　howling　strange　cries　to　all　the　corners　of　the　walls；　strewing　his　red　hair　on　the　pavement。　　It　was　just　at　the　moment　when　the　king's　archers　were　making　their　victorious　entrance　into　Notre…Dame；　also　in　search　of　the　gypsy。　　Quasimodo；　poor；　deaf　fellow；　aided　them　in　their　fatal　intentions；　without　suspecting　it；　he　thought　that　the　outcasts　were　the　gypsy's　enemies。　　He　himself　conducted　Tristan　l'Hermite　to　all　possible　hiding…places；　opened　to　him　the　secret　doors；　the　double　bottoms　of　the　altars；　the　rear　sacristries。　　If　the　unfortunate　girl　had　still　been　there；　it　would　have　been　he　himself　who　would　have　delivered　her　up。

When　the　fatigue　of　finding　nothing　had　disheartened　Tristan；　who　was　not　easily　discouraged；　Quasimodo　continued　the　search　alone。　　He　made　the　tour　of　the　church　twenty　times；　length　and　breadth；　up　and　down；　ascending　and　descending；　running；　calling；　sbouting；　peeping；　rummaging；　ransacking；　thrusting　his　head　into　every　hole；　pushing　a　torch　under　every　vault；　despairing；　mad。　　A　male　who　has　lost　his　female　is　no　more　roaring　nor　more　haggard。

At　last　when　he　was　sure；　perfectly　sure　that　she　was　no　longer　there；　that　all　was　at　an　end；　that　she　had　been　snatched　from　him；　he　slowly　mounted　the　staircase　to　the　towers；　that　staircase　which　he　had　ascended　with　so　much　eagerness　and　triumph　on　the　day　when　he　had　saved　her。　He　passed　those　same　places　once　more　with　drooping　head；　voiceless；　tearless；　almost　breathless。　　The　church　was　again　deserted；　and　had　fallen　back　into　its　silence。　　The　archers　had　quitted　it　to　track　the　sorceress　in　the　city。　　Quasimodo；　left　alone　in　that　vast　Notre…Dame；　so　besieged　and　tumultuous　but　a　short　time　before；　once　more　betook　himself　to　the　cell　where　the　gypsy　had　slept　for　so　many　weeks　under　his　guardianship。

As　he　approached　it；　he　fancied　that　he　might；　perhaps；　find　her　there。　　When；　at　the　turn　of　the　gallery　which　opens　on　the　roof　of　the　side　aisles；　he　perceived　the　tiny　cell　with　its　little　window　and　its　little　door　crouching　beneath　a　great　flying　buttress　like　a　bird's　nest　under　a　branch；　the　poor　man's　heart　failed　him；　and　he　leaned　against　a　pillar　to　keep　from　falling。　　He　imagined　that　she　might　have　returned　thither；　that　some　good　genius　had；　no　doubt；　brought　her　back；　that　this　chamber　was　too　tranquil；　too　safe；　too　charming　for　her　not　to　be　there；　and　he　dared　not　take　another　step　for　fear　of　destroying　his　illusion。　　〃Yes；〃　he　said　to　himself；　〃perchance　she　is　sleeping；　or　praying。　　I　must　not　disturb　her。〃

At　length　he　summoned　up　courage；　advanced　on　tiptoe；　looked；　entered。　　Empty。　　The　cell　was　sti