us
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.

CHAPTER VII. THE MYSTERIOUS MONK.

The illustrious wine shop of "Eve's Apple" was situated in the
University, at the corner of the Rue de la Rondelle and the Rue de la
Batonnier. It was a very spacious and very low hail on the ground floor,
with a vaulted ceiling whose central spring rested upon a huge pillar of
wood painted yellow; tables everywhere, shining pewter jugs han