the hunchback of notre dame-第129章

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ard。

But　the　priest　was　not　listening　to；　was　not　looking　at；　anything　of　all　this。　　He　was　one　of　the　men　for　whom　there　are　no　mornings；　no　birds；　no　flowers。　　In　that　immense　horizon；　which　assumed　so　many　aspects　about　him；　his　contemplation　was　concentrated　on　a　single　point。

Quasimodo　was　burning　to　ask　him　what　he　had　done　with　the　gypsy；　but　the　archdeacon　seemed　to　be　out　of　the　world　at　that　moment。　　He　was　evidently　in　one　of　those　violent　moments　of　life　when　one　would　not　feel　the　earth　crumble。　He　remained　motionless　and　silent；　with　his　eyes　steadily　fixed　on　a　certain　point；　and　there　was　something　so　terrible　about　this　silence　and　immobility　that　the　savage　bellringer　shuddered　before　it　and　dared　not　come　in　contact　with　it。　Only；　and　this　was　also　one　way　of　interrogating　the　archdeacon；　he　followed　the　direction　of　his　vision；　and　in　this　way　the　glance　of　the　unhappy　deaf　man　fell　upon　the　Place　de　Grève。

Thus　he　saw　what　the　priest　was　looking　at。　　The　ladder　was　erected　near　the　permanent　gallows。　　There　were　some　people　and　many　soldiers　in　the　Place。　　A　man　was　dragging　a　white　thing；　from　which　hung　something　black；　along　the　pavement。　　This　man　halted　at　the　foot　of　the　gallows。

Here　something　took　place　which　Quasimodo　could　not　see　very　clearly。　　It　was　not　because　his　only　eye　had　not　preserved　its　long　range；　but　there　was　a　group　of　soldiers　which　prevented　his　seeing　everything。　　Moreover；　at　that　moment　the　sun　appeared；　and　such　a　flood　of　light　overflowed　the　horizon　that　one　would　have　said　that　all　the　points　in　Paris；　spires；　chimneys；　gables；　had　simultaneously　taken　fire。

Meanwhile；　the　man　began　to　mount　the　ladder。　　Then　Quasimodo　saw　him　again　distinctly。　　He　was　carrying　a　woman　on　his　shoulder；　a　young　girl　dressed　in　white；　that　young　girl　had　a　noose　about　her　neck。　　Quasimodo　recognized　her。

It　was　she。

The　man　reached　the　top　of　the　ladder。　　There　he　arranged　the　noose。　　Here　the　priest；　in　order　to　see　the　better；　knelt　upon　the　balustrade。

All　at　once　the　man　kicked　away　the　ladder　abruptly；　and　Quasimodo；　who　had　not　breathed　for　several　moments；　beheld　the　unhappy　child　dangling　at　the　end　of　the　rope　two　fathoms　above　the　pavement；　with　the　man　squatting　on　her　shoulders。　The　rope　made　several　gyrations　on　itself；　and　Quasimodo　beheld　horrible　convulsions　run　along　the　gypsy's　body。　　The　priest；　on　his　side；　with　outstretched　neck　and　eyes　starting　from　his　head；　contemplated　this　horrible　group　of　the　man　and　the　young　girl；the　spider　and　the　fly。

At　the　moment　when　it　was　most　horrible；　the　laugh　of　a　demon；　a　laugh　which　one　can　only　give　vent　to　when　one　is　no　longer　human；　burst　forth　on　the　priest's　livid　face。

Quasimodo　did　not　hear　that　laugh；　but　he　saw　it。

The　bellringer　retreated　several　paces　behind　the　archdeacon；　and　suddenly　hurling　himself　upon　him　with　fury；　with　his　huge　hands　he　pushed　him　by　the　back　over　into　the　abyss　over　which　Dom　Claude　was　leaning。

The　priest　shrieked：　〃Damnation！〃　and　fell。

The　spout；　above　which　he　had　stood；　arrested　him　in　his　fall。　　He　clung　to　it　with　desperate　hands；　and；　at　the　moment　when　he　opened　his　mouth　to　utter　a　second　cry；　he　beheld　the　formidable　and　avenging　face　of　Quasimodo　thrust　over　the　edge　of　the　balustrade　above　his　head。

Then　he　was　silent。

The　abyss　was　there　below　him。　　A　fall　of　more　than　two　hundred　feet　and　the　pavement。

In　this　terrible　situation；　the　archdeacon　said　not　a　word；　uttered　not　a　groan。　　He　merely　writhed　upon　the　spout；　with　incredible　efforts　to　climb　up　again；　but　his　hands　had　no　hold　on　the　granite；　his　feet　slid　along　the　blackened　wall　without　catching　fast。　　People　who　have　ascended　the　towers　of　Notre…Dame　know　that　there　is　a　swell　of　the　stone　immediately　beneath　the　balustrade。　　It　was　on　this　retreating　angle　that　miserable　archdeacon　exhausted　himself。　　He　had　not　to　deal　with　a　perpendicular　wall；　but　with　one　which　sloped　away　beneath　him。

Quasimodo　had　but　to　stretch　out　his　hand　in　order　to　draw　him　from　the　gulf；　but　he　did　not　even　look　at　him。　　He　was　looking　at　the　Grève。　　He　was　looking　at　the　gallows。　　He　was　looking　at　the　gypsy。

The　deaf　man　was　leaning；　with　his　elbows　on　the　balustrade；　at　the　spot　where　the　archdeacon　had　been　a　moment　before；　and　there；　never　detaching　his　gaze　from　the　only　object　which　existed　for　him　in　the　world　at　that　moment；　he　remained　motionless　and　mute；　like　a　man　struck　by　lightning；　and　a　long　stream　of　tears　flowed　in　silence　from　that　eye　which；　up　to　that　time；　had　never　shed　but　one　tear。

Meanwhile；　the　archdeacon　was　panting。　　His　bald　brow　was　dripping　with　perspiration；　his　nails　were　bleeding　against　the　stones；　his　knees　were　flayed　by　the　wall。

He　heard　his　cassock；　which　was　caught　on　the　spout；　crack　and　rip　at　every　jerk　that　he　gave　it。　　To　complete　his　misfortune；　this　spout　ended　in　a　leaden　pipe　which　bent　under　the　weight　of　his　body。　　The　archdeacon　felt　this　pipe　slowly

giving　way。　　The　miserable　man　said　to　himself　that；　when　his　hands　should　be　worn　out　with　fatigue；　when　his　cassock　should　tear　asunder；　when　the　lead　should　give　way；　he　would　be　obliged　to　fall；　and　terror　seized　upon　his　very　vitals。　Now　and　then　he　glanced　wildly　at　a　sort　of　narrow　shelf　formed；　ten　feet　lower　down；　by　projections　of　the　sculpture；　and　he　prayed　heaven；　from　the　depths　of　his　distressed　soul；　that　he　might　be　allowed　to　finish　his　life；　were　it　to　last　two　centuries；　on　that　space　two　feet　square。　　Once；　he　glanced　below　him　into　the　Place；　into　the　abyss；　the　head　which　he　raised　again　had　its　eyes　closed　and　its　hair　standing　erect。

There　was　something　frightful　in　the　silence　of　these　two　men。　　While　the　archdeacon　agonized　in　this　terrible　fashion　a　few　feet　below　him；　Quasimodo　wept　and　gazed　at　the　Grève。

The　archdeacon；　seeing　that　all　his　exertions　served　only　to　weaken　the　fragile　support　which　remained　to　him；　decided　to　remain　quiet。　　There　he　hung；　embracing　the　gutter；　hardly　breathing；　no　longer　stirring；　making　no　longer　any　other　movements　than　that　mechanical　convulsion　of　the　stomach；　which　one　experiences　in　dreams　when　one　fancies　himself　falling。　　His　fixed　eyes　were　wide　open　with　a　stare。　　He　lost　ground　little　by　little；　nevertheless；　his　fingers　slipped　along　the　spout；　he　became　more　and　more　conscious　of　the　feebleness　of　his　arms　and　the　weight　of　his　body。　　The　curve　of　the　lead　which　sustained　him　inclined　more　and　more　each　instant　towards　the　abyss。

He　beheld　below　him；　a　frightful　thing；　the　roof　of　Saint…　Jean　le　Rond；　as　small　as　a　card　folded　in　two。　　He　gazed　at　the　impressive　carvings；　one　by　one；　of　the　tower；　suspended　like　himself　over　the　precipice；　but　without　terror　for　themselves　or　pity　for　him。　　All　was　stone　around　him；　before　his　eyes；　gaping　monsters；　below；　quite　at　the　bottom；　in　the　Place；　the　pavement；　above　his　head；　Quasimodo　weeping。

In　the　Parvis　there　were　several　groups　of　curious　good　people；　who　were　tranquilly　seeking　to　divine　who　the　madman　could　be　who　was　amusing　himself　in　so　strange　a　manner。　The　priest　heard　them　saying；　for　their　voices　reached　him；　clear　and　shrill：　〃Why；　he　will　break　his　neck！〃

Quasimodo　wept。

At　last　the　archdeacon；　foaming　with　rage　and　despair；　understood　that　all　was　in　vain。　　Nevertheless；　he　collected　all　the　strength　which　remained　to　him　for　a　final　effort。　　He　stiffened　himself　upon　the　spout；　pushed　against　the　wall　with　both　his　knees；　clung　to　a　crevice　in　the　stones　with　his　hands；　and　succeeded　in　climbing　back　with　one　foot；　perhaps；　but　this　effort　made　the　leaden　beak　on　which　he　rested　bend　abruptly。　　His　cassock　burst　open　at　the　same　time。　　Then；　feeling　everything　give　way　beneath　him；　with　nothing　but　his　stiffened　and　failing　hands　to　support　him；　the　unfortunate　man　closed　his　eyes　and　let　go　of　the　spout。　He　fell。

Quasimodo　watched　him　fall。

A　fall　from　such　a　height　is　seldom　perpendicular。　　The　archdeacon；　launched　into　space；　fell　at　first　head　foremost；　with　outspread　hands；　then　he　whirled　over　and　over　many　times；　the　wind　blew　him　upon　the　roof　of　a　house；　where　the　unfortunate　man　began　to　break　up。　　Nevertheless；