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第117章 BOOK Ⅷ(3)

But M re Philippe Lheulier again interposed.'I would remind you,gentlemen,that in the deposition taken down at his beside the murdered officer,while stating that a vague suspicion had crossed his mind at the instant when the black man accosted him,that it might be the spectre-monk,added,that the phantom had eagerly urged him to go and meet the accused,and on his(the captain's)observing that he was without money,had given him the crown which the said officer paid to La Falourdel.Thus the crown is a coin of hell.'

This conclusive observation appeared to dissipate all doubts entertained by Gringoire or any other sceptics among the listeners.

'Gentlemen,you have the documents in hand,'added the advocate as he seated himself,'you can consult the deposition of P us de Chateaupers.'

At this name the accused started up.Her head was now above the crowd.Gringoire,aghast,recognised Esmeralda.

She was deadly pale;her hair,once so charmingly braided and spangled with sequins,fell about her in disorder;her lips were blue,her sunken eyes horrifying.Alas!

'P us!'she cried distraught,'where is he?Oh,my lords,before you kill me,in mercy tell me if he yet lives!'

'Silence,woman!'answered the President;'that is not our concern.'

'Oh,in pity,tell me if he lives!'she cried again,clasping her beautiful wasted hands;and her chains clanked as she moved.

'Well,then,'said the King's advocate dryly,'he is at the point of death.Does that satisfy you?'

The wretched girl fell back in her seat,speechless,tearless,white as a waxen image.

The President leaned down to a man at his feet who wore a gilded cap and a black gown,a chain round his neck,and a wand in his hand.

'Usher,bring in the second accused.'

All eyes were turned towards a little door which opened,and to Gringoire's great trepidation gave entrance to a pretty little goat with gilded horns and hoofs.The graceful creature stood a moment on the threshold stretching her neck exactly as if,poised on the summit of a rock,she had a vast expanse before her eyes.Suddenly she caught sight of the gipsy girl,and leaping over the table and the head of the clerk in two bounds,she was at her mistress's knee.She then crouched at Esmeralda's feet,begging for a word or a caress;but the prisoner remained motionless,even little Djali could not win a glance from her.

'Why—'tis my ugly brute,'said old Falourdel,'and now I recognise them both perfectly!'

'An it please you,gentlemen,we will proceed to the interrogation of the goat.'

This,in effect,was the second criminal.Nothing was more common in those days than a charge of witchcraft against an animal.For instance,in the Provostry account for 1466 there is a curious specification of the expenses of the action against Gillet Soulart and his sow,'executed for their demerits'at Corbeil.Everything is detailed—the cost of the pit to put the sow into;the five hundred bundles of wood from the wharf of Morsant;the three pints of wine and the bread,the victims'last meal,fraternally shared by the executioner;and even the eleven days'custody and keep of the sow at eight deniers parisis per day.At times they went beyond animals.The capitularies of Charlemagne and Louis le Debonnaire impose severe penalties on fiery phantoms who had the assurance to appear in the air.

Meanwhile the procurator of the Ecclesiastical Court exclaimed,'If the demon that possesses this goat,and which has resisted every exorcism,persist in his sorceries,if he terrify the court thereby,we forewarn him that we shall be constrained to proceed against him with the gibbet or the stake.'

Gringoire broke out in a cold sweat.

Charmolue then took from the table the gipsy's tambourine,and presenting it in a certain manner to the goat,he asked:'What is the time of day?'

The goat regarded him with a sagacious eye,lifted her gilded hoof,and struck seven strokes.It was in truth seven o'clock.A thrill of horror ran through the crowd.

Gringoire could contain himself no longer.'She will be her own ruin!'he exclaimed aloud.'You can see for yourself she has no knowledge of what she is doing.'

'Silence down there!'cried the usher sharply.

Jacques Charmolue,by means of the same ma vrings with the tambourine,made the goat perform several other tricks in connection with the date of the day,the month of the year,etc.,which the reader has already witnessed.And by an optical illusion peculiar to judicial proceedings,these same spectators,who doubtless had often applauded Djali's innocent performances in the public streets,were terrified by them under the roof of the Palais de Justice.The goat was indisputably the devil.

It was much worse,however,when the procurator,having emptied on the floor a certain little leather bag full of movable letters hanging from Djali's neck,the goat was seen to separate from the scattered alphabet the letters of the fatal name'P us.'The magic of which the captain had been a victim seemed incontrovertibly proven;and,in the eyes of all,the gipsy girl,the charming dancer who had so often dazzled the passer-by with her exquisite grace,was nothing more nor less than a horrible witch.

As for her,she gave no sign of life.Neither Djali's pretty tricks nor the menaces of the lawyers,nor the stifled imprecations of the spectators—nothing reached her apprehension any more.

At last,in order to rouse her,a sergeant had to shake her pitilessly by the arm,and the President solemnly raised his voice:

'Girl,you are of the race of Bohemians,and given to sorcery.In company with your accomplice,the bewitched goat,also implicated in this charge,you did,on the night of the twenty-ninth of March last,in concert with the powers of darkness,and by the aid of charms and spells,wound and poniard a captain of the King's archers,P us de Chateaupers by name.Do you persist in your denial?'

'Horrors!'cried the girl,covering her face with her hands.'My P us!Oh,this is hell!'

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