le you were talking with that lady in the
bole, a big dog took a bite of my cake, and then I bit it also."

"What, sir, did you eat the whole of it?" she went on.

"Mother, it was the dog. I told him, but he would not listen to me. Then
I bit into it, also."

"'Tis a terrible child!" said the mother, smiling and scolding at one
and the same time. "Do you see, Oudarde? He already eats all the fruit
from the cherry-tree in our orchard of Charlerange. So his grandfather
says that he will be a captain. Just let me catch you at it again,
Master Eustache. Come along, you greedy fellow!"

End of Volume 1.

VOLUME II.

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

BOOK SEVENTH. I. The Danger of Confiding One's Secret to a Goat II. A
Priest and a Philosopher are two Different Things III. The Bells IV.
_ANArKH_ V. The Two Men Clothed in Black VI. The Effect which Seven
Oaths in the Open Air can Produce VII. The Mysterious Monk VIII. The
Utility of Windows which Open on the River

BOOK EIGHTH. I. The Crown Changed into a Dry Leaf II. Continuation of
the Crown which was Changed into a Dry Leaf III. End of the Crown which
was Changed into a Dry Leaf IV. _Lasciate Ogni Speranza_--Leave all
hope behind, ye who Enter here V. The Mother VI. Three Human Hearts
differently Constructed

BOOK NINTH. I. Delirium II. Hunchbacked, One Eyed, Lame III. Deaf IV.
Earthenware and Crystal V. The Key to the Red Door VI. Continuation of
the Key to the Red Door

BOOK TENTH. I. Gringoire has Many Good Ideas in Succession.--Rue des
Bernardins II. Turn Vagabond III. Long Live Mirth IV. An Awkward Friend
V. The Retreat in which Monsieur Louis of France says his Prayers VI.
Little Sword in Pocket VII. Chateaupers to the Rescue

BOOK ELEVENTH.

I. The Little Shoe II. The Beautiful Creature Clad in White III. The
Marriage of Pinnbus IV. The Marriage of Quasimodo--Note added to
Definitive Edition

CHAPTER I. THE DANGER OF CONFIDING ONE'S SECRET TO A GOAT.

Many weeks had elapsed.

The first of March had arrived. The sun, which Dubartas, that classic
ancestor of periphrase, had not yet dubbed the "Grand-duke of Candles,"
was none the less radiant and joyous on that account. It was one of
those spring days which possesses so much sweetness and beauty, that all
Paris turns out into the squares and promenades and celebrates them
as though they were Sundays. In those days of brilliancy, warmth, and
serenity, there is a cer