"~Te Deum Laudamus~!" exclaimed Master Jehan, creeping out from his hole, "the screech-owls have departed. Och! och! Hax! pax! max! fleas! mad dogs! the devil! I have had enough of their conversation! My head is humming like a bell tower. And mouldy cheese to boot! Come on! Let us descend, take the big brother's purse and convert all these coins into bottles!"
He cast a glance of tenderness and admiration into the interior of the precious pouch, readjusted his toilet, rubbed up his boots, dusted his poor half sleeves, all gray with ashes, whistled an air, indulged in a sportive pirouette, looked about to see whether there were not something more in the cell to take, gathered up here and there on the furnace some amulet in glass which might serve to bestow, in the guise of a trinket, on Isabeau la Thierrye, finally pushed open the door which his brother had left unfastened, as a last indulgence, and which he, in his turn, left open as a last piece of malice, and descended the circular staircase, skipping like a bird.
In the midst of the gloom of the spiral staircase, he elbowed something which drew aside with a growl; he took it for granted that it was Quasimodo, and it struck him as so droll that he descended the remainder of the staircase holding his sides with laughter. On emerging upon the Place, he laughed yet more heartily.
He stamped his foot when he found himself on the ground once again. "Oh!" said he, "good and honorable pavement of Paris, cursed staircase, fit to put the angels of Jacob's ladder out of breath! What was I thinking of to thrust myself into that stone gimlet which pierces the sky; all for the sake of eating bearded cheese, and looking at the bell- towers of Paris through a hole in the wall!"
He advanced a few paces, and caught sight of the two screech owls, that is to say, Dom Claude and Master Jacques Charmolue, absorbed in contemplation before a carving on the fa?ade. He approached them on tiptoe, and heard the archdeacon say in a low tone to Charmolue: "'Twas Guillaume de Paris who caused a Job to be carved upon this stone of the hue of lapis-lazuli, gilded on the edges. Job represents the philosopher's stone, which must also be tried and martyrized in order to become perfect, as saith Raymond Lulle: ~Sub conservatione formoe speciftoe salva anima~."
"That makes no difference to me," said Jehan, "'tis I who have the purse."
At that moment he heard a powerful and sonorous voice articulate behind him a formidable series of oaths. "~Sang Dieu! Ventre-.Dieu! Bédieu! Corps de Dieu! Nombril de Belzebuth! Nom d'un pape! Come et tonnerre~."
"Upon my soul!" exclaimed Jehan, "that can only be my friend, Captain Phoebus!"
This name of Phoebus reached the ears of the archdeacon at the moment when he was explaining to the king's procurator the dragon which is hiding its tail in a bath, from which issue smoke and the head of a king. Dom Claude started, interrupted himself and, to the great amazement of Charmolue, turned round and beheld his brother Jehan accosting a tall officer at the door of the Gondelaurier mansion.
It was, in fact, Captain Phoebus de Chateaupers. He was backed up against a corner of the house of his betrothed and swearing like a heathen.
"By my faith! Captain Phoebus," said Jehan, taking him by the hand, "you are cursing with admirable vigor."
"Horns and thunder!" replied the captain.
"Horns and thunder yourself!" replied the student. "Come now, fair captain, whence comes this overflow of fine words?"
"Pardon me, good comrade Jehan," exclaimed Phoebus, shaking his hand, "a horse going at a gallop cannot halt short. Now, I was swearing at a hard gallop. I have just been with those prudes, and when I come forth, I always find my throat full of curses, I must spit them out or strangle, ~ventre et tonnerre~!"
"Will you come and drink?" asked the scholar.
This proposition calmed the captain.
"I'm willing, but I have no money."
"But I have!"
"Bah! let's see it!"
Jehan spread out the purse before the captain's eyes, with dignity and simplicity. Meanwhile, the archdeacon, who had abandoned the dumbfounded Charmolue where he stood, had approached them and halted a few paces distant, watching them without their noticing him, so deeply were they absorbed in contemplation of the purse.
Phoebus exclaimed: "A purse in your pocket, Jehan! 'tis the moon in a bucket of water, one sees it there but 'tis not there. There is nothing but its shadow. Pardieu! let us wager that these are pebbles!"
Jehan replied coldly: "Here are the pebbles wherewith I pave my fob!"
And without adding another word, he emptied the purse on a neighboring post, with the air of a Roman saving his country.
"True God!" muttered Phoebus, "targes, big-blanks, little blanks, mailles,* every two worth one of Tournay, farthings of Paris, real eagle liards! 'Tis dazzling!"
* An ancient copper coin, the forty-fourth part of a sou or the twelfth part of a farthing.
Jehan remained dignified and immovable. Several liards had rolled into the mud; the captain in his enthusiasm stooped to pick them up. Jehan restrained him.
"Fye, Captain Phoebus de Chateaupers!"
Phoebus counted the coins, and turning towards Jehan with solemnity, "Do you know, Jehan, that there are three and twenty sous parisis! whom have you plundered to-night, in the Street Cut-Weazand?"
Jehan flung back his blonde and curly head, and said, half- closing his eyes disdainfully,--
"We have a brother who is an archdeacon and a fool."
"~Corne de Dieu~!" exclaimed Phoebus, "the worthy man!"
"Let us go and drink," said Jehan.
"Where shall we go?" said Phoebus; "'To Eve's Apple.'"
"No, captain, to 'Ancient Science.' An old woman sawing a basket handle*; 'tis a rebus, and I like that."
* ~Une vielle qui scie une anse~.
"A plague on rebuses, Jehan! the wine is better at 'Eve's Apple'; and then, beside the door there is a vine in the sun which cheers me while I am drinking."
"Well! here goes for Eve and her apple," said the student, and taking Phoebus's arm. "By the way, my dear captain, you just mentioned the Rue Coupe-Gueule* That is a very bad form of speech; people are no longer so barbarous. They say, Coupe-Gorge**."
* Cut-Weazand Street.
** Cut-Throat Street.
The two friends set out towards "Eve's Apple." It is unnecessary to mention that they had first gathered up the money, and that the archdeacon followed them.
The archdeacon followed them, gloomy and haggard. Was this the Phoebus whose accursed name had been mingled with all his thoughts ever since his interview with Gringoire? He did not know it, but it was at least a Phoebus, and that magic name sufficed to make the archdeacon follow the two heedless comrades with the stealthy tread of a wolf, listening to their words and observing their slightest gestures with anxious attention. Moreover, nothing was easier than to hear everything they said, as they talked loudly, not in the least concerned that the passers-by were taken into their confidence. They talked of duels, wenches, wine pots, and folly.
At the turning of a street, the sound of a tambourine reached them from a neighboring square. Dom Claude heard the officer say to the scholar,--
"Thunder! Let us hasten our steps!"
"Why, Phoebus?"
"I'm afraid lest the Bohemian should see me."
"What Bohemian?"
"The little girl with the goat."
"La Smeralda?"
"That's it, Jehan. I always forget her devil of a name. Let us make haste, she will recognize me. I don't want to have that girl accost me in the street."
"Do you know her, Phoebus?"
Here the archdeacon saw Phoebus sneer, bend down to Jehan's ear, and say a few words to him in a low voice; then Phoebus burst into a laugh, and shook his head with a triumphant air.
"Truly?" said Jehan.
"Upon my soul!" said Phoebus.
"This evening?"
"This evening."
"Are you sure that she will come?"
"Are you a fool, Jehan? Does one doubt such things?"
"Captain Phoebus, you are a happy gendarme!"
The archdeacon heard the whole of this conversation. His teeth chattered; a visible shiver ran through his whole body. He halted for a moment, leaned against a post like a drunken man, then followed the two merry knaves.
At the moment when he overtook them once more, they had changed their conversation. He heard them singing at the top of their lungs the ancient refrain,--
~Les enfants des Petits-Carreaux Se font pendre cornme des veaux~*.
* The children of the Petits Carreaux let themselves be hung like calves.
“为你赞美上帝！”若望这样嚷着从火炉下爬了出来，“那两只鸱枭走啦！‘呵歇，呵歇’！‘啊嗨，吧嗨，吗嗨’这些跳蚤！这些疯狗！见鬼！
他们的谈话我真听够了！我的头轰响得跟钟楼似的！市场上到处都有的发霉的干酪！嘘！我要拿着我哥哥的钱包下去，把所有的钱通通用来买酒喝！”
他向那宝贵的钱包温柔地、赞赏地看了一眼，整顿了一下衣服，扣好了钮扣，扫去衣袖上的灰尘，打着唿哨用脚跟转了一圈，看看那小屋里是否还有什么可以拿走的东西。他在火炉上捡起几个小玻璃器皿，好送给依莎波·拉·居耶里当玩具，最后，拉开他哥哥由于对他最后的一次宽大而没上锁的门，而他为了做最后一次恶作剧，没有锁门就象小鸟似的蹦蹦跳跳地下了螺旋梯。
在黑暗的楼梯上，他碰到一个什么东西，它咆哮着走开了。他猜想那是伽西莫多，于是觉得十分可笑，他跑下其余的梯级时一路捧腹大笑，到了广场上还笑个不停。
他发觉自己又站在地上了，便把脚踏响着。“啊，”他说，“又好又可敬的巴黎石板路呀，连雅可布的引路天使都会喘不上气的楼梯真该骂！我怎么会想起跑去把自己逼在那个高插云霄的石堆里，就为了去吃那发霉的干酪，为了从一个小窗洞里去张望巴黎的那些钟楼！”
他走了几步，看见那两只鸱枭——克洛德·孚罗洛和雅克·沙尔莫吕阁下，正站在大门口一尊雕像前面观看。他踮起脚尖走到他们跟前，听见副主教低声向沙尔莫吕说道：“是巴黎的居约姆吩咐把约伯的肖像刻在这金边的青石上的，约伯象征着炼金石，这块石头也该受点考验和折磨才能变得完整呢。正如雷蒙·吕勒说的：‘把它在特殊形式下保存起来，灵魂便能得救。’”
“那对于我是一样的，”若望说，“有钱包的是我呀！”
这时他听见身后有一种又大又响的声音在一迭连声地咒骂：“上帝的血呀！上帝的身体呀！倍尔日比特的肚脐呀！教皇的名字呀！喇叭和雷霆呀！”
“我敢用灵魂担保，”若望嚷道，“这准是我的朋友弗比斯队长。”
副主教正在向王室教廷检察官讲解龙的尾巴藏在一个池塘里，池塘便冒出一缕烟和一个国王的头颅的故事，弗比斯的名字传进了他的耳朵，堂·克洛德战栗了一下，中断了讲述，在沙尔莫吕的惊讶中回转身去，看见他的兄弟若望正在同一个站在贡德洛里耶府邸门口的高个儿军官谈话。
那的确是弗比斯·德·沙多倍尔队长先生，他背靠着未婚妻家的墙角，象个邪教徒似的在那里咒骂。
“啊呀，弗比斯队长，”若望握着他的手说，“你骂得好起劲呀。”
“喇叭和雷霆呀！”队长回答道。
“喇叭和雷霆对着你自己吧！”学生喊道，“可是好队长，你从哪里学来这么一大堆好字眼的？”
“请原谅，好朋友若望，”弗比斯摇着他的胳膊说，“一匹正在奔跑的马是不可能一下子停住的，我正在骂得起劲，我刚刚从那些假正经的女人家里出来，我每次出来时嘴里都装满了咒骂。我一定得骂出来，要不然我就会憋死！”
“你愿意喝酒去吗？”学生问道。
这个提议使队长平静下来了。
“我很愿意，可是我没有钱。”
“我有钱呀。”
“呸！给我瞧瞧！”
若望又庄严又坦率地把钱包在那队长眼前炫耀了一番。这时副主教把那惊呆了的沙尔莫吕丢在一边，跑过来在几步之外站住看着那两个人，那两个人正在十分专心地察看钱包，没有注意他。
弗比斯嚷道：“若望，你衣袋里的钱包，就跟水中的月亮一般，你看得见它，可是它并不存在，那不过是月亮的影子罢了。你那不过是些石子儿，我敢打赌！”
若望冷冰冰地答道：“这就是我衣袋里的石子儿，可把我膈肢窝都磨痛了！”说着他就把钱包往身边的路碑上一抖，态度很象正在救国的罗马人。
“真的呀！”弗比斯轻声说，“有些银盾，有些大银币和小银币，有些每两个就值一杜尔的铜钱，有些巴黎德尼埃和真正的鹰币！……真叫人看得眼花呀！”
若望保持着庄严矜持的神气。几个鹰币滚到泥土里去了，队长热心地弯下腰想去捡起来，若望拉住他说道：“算了吧，弗比斯·德·沙多倍尔队长！”
弗比斯把钱数了数，郑重其事地向若望说：“你知道吗，若望，一共有二十三个巴黎索尔呢！你昨晚在割嘴街抢了谁的钱呀？”
若望把他那金色鬈发的头向后仰着，半合着眼说道：“人家有一位糊涂蛋副主教哥哥呢。”
“上帝的喇叭！”弗比斯嚷道，“就是那个宝贝家伙呀？”
“咱们喝酒去吧！”若望说。
“到哪儿去呢？”弗比斯说，“到夏娃苹果酒家去好吗？”
“不，队长，到老科学酒家吧，那是个谜一般的地方，我喜欢那一家。”
“讨厌的谜！若望，夏娃苹果酒家的酒比较好，而且门边还有一架照满阳光的葡萄，我喝酒时看着挺开心。”
“好吧，就到夏娃和她的苹果那儿去！”若望挽着弗比斯的胳膊说，“啊，亲爱的队长，你刚才说起割嘴街，你说得不对，现在人们不那么野蛮了，人们管它叫割喉街。”
朋友俩动身向夏娃苹果酒家走去，不用说，他们先把钱收拾好了，副主教跟随着他们。
副主教跟随着他们，神色阴沉粗野，是否因为自从他上次和甘果瓦谈话之后，弗比斯那该死的名字就占据了他的心？这他并不清楚。但这究竟是一个弗比斯，而这个魔术般的名字已足够使这位副主教轻步跟随着两个无忧无虑的伙伴，不安地留心倾听着他们的谈话，观察他们每个微小的举动。再说，去听他们的全部谈话是再容易不过的，他们讲得那么大声，并不因为多半过路人听到了他们的谈话而觉得难为情，他们谈论决斗，谈论姑娘、酒瓶和放荡行为。
转过一条街，一阵手鼓的声音从街口传到了他们的耳中，堂·克洛德听见那军官向那学生说：“手鼓声！咱们走快些。”
“为什么呀，弗比斯？”
“我怕那个流浪姑娘看见我。”
“哪一个流浪姑娘呀？”
“就是那牵小羊的小姑娘。”
“是斯梅拉达吗？”
“就是她。若望，我老是记不清她那个鬼名字。赶快，她会认出我的，我不愿那姑娘在大街上靠近我。”
“你认识她吗，弗比斯？”
说到这里，副主教看见弗比斯嘻着嘴笑了一笑，附在若望的耳边低声说了几句话，随后弗比斯大声笑起来，带着胜利的神情摇着头。
“真的吗？”若望问。
“凭我的灵魂担保！”弗比斯说。
“今天晚上？”
“今天晚上。”
“你拿得准她会来吗？”
“你是笨蛋吧，若望？这种事还用得着怀疑吗？”
“弗比斯队长，你是个走运的武士！”
副主教听见了全部谈话，他的牙齿咬得发响，一阵看不见的战栗通过他的全身。他停了一会脚步，象醉汉似的靠在一根柱子上，随后又跟着那两个快活的伙伴走去。
等他赶上他们时，他们已经改换了话题，他听见他们低声唱着那支古老的回旋曲的迭句：市场周围摆摊地方的孩子，象傻瓜样去吊死。