of some sort of an execution, no doubt, not a hanging, but a whipping,
a cropping of ears, something, in short,--that crowd had increased so
rapidly that the four policemen, too closely besieged, had had occasion
to "press" it, as the expression then ran, more than once, by sound
blows of their whips, and the haunches of their horses.

This populace, disciplined to waiting for public executions, did not
manifest very much impatience. It amused itself with watching the
pillory, a very simple sort of monument, composed of a cube of masonry
about six feet high and hollow in the interior. A very steep staircase,
of unhewn stone, which was called by distinction "the ladder," led to
the upper platform, upon which was visible a horizontal wheel of solid
oak. The victim was bound upon this wheel, on his knees, with his hands
behind his back. A wooden shaft, which set in motion a capstan concealed
in the interior of the little edifice, imparted a rotatory motion to
the wheel, which always maintained its horizontal position, and in this
manner presented the face of the condemned man to all quarters of the
square in succession. This was what was called "turning" a criminal.

As the reader perceives, the pillory of the Greve was far from
presenting all the recreations of the pillory of the Halles. Nothing
architectural, nothing monumental. No roof to the iron cross, no
octagonal lantern, no frail, slender columns spreading out on the edge
of the roof into capitals of acanthus leaves and flowers, no waterspouts
of chimeras and monsters, on carved woodwork, no fine sculpture, deeply
sunk in the stone.

They were forced to content themselves with those four stretches of
rubble work, backed with sandstone, and a wretched stone gibbet, meagre
and bare, on one side.

The entertainment would have been but a poor one for lovers of Gothic
architecture. It is true that nothing was ever less curious on the score
of architecture than the worthy gapers of the Middle Ages, and that they
cared very little for the beauty of a pillory.

The victim finally arrived, bound to the tail of a cart, and when he had
been hoisted upon the platform, where he could be seen from all points
of the Place, bound with cords and straps upon the wheel of the pillory,
a prodigious hoot, mingled with laughter and acclamations, burst forth
upon the Place. They had recognized Quasimodo.

It was he, in fact. The change was singular. Pilloried on the very place
whe