dingly, Quasimodo, after having cast a glance at his
poor bells which he so neglected now, Jacqueline, Marie, and Thibauld,
mounted to the summit of the Northern tower, and there setting his dark
lanturn, well closed, upon the leads, he began to gaze at Paris. The
night, as we have already said, was very dark. Paris which, so to
speak was not lighted at that epoch, presented to the eye a confused
collection of black masses, cut here and there by the whitish curve of
the Seine. Quasimodo no longer saw any light with the exception of one
window in a distant edifice, whose vague and sombre profile was outlined
well above the roofs, in the direction of the Porte Sainte-Antoine.
There also, there was some one awake.

As the only eye of the bellringer peered into that horizon of mist and
night, he felt within him an inexpressible uneasiness. For several days
he had been upon his guard. He had perceived men of sinister mien, who
never took their eyes from the young girl's asylum, prowling constantly
about the church. He fancied that some plot might be in process of
formation against the unhappy refugee. He imagined that there existed
a popular hatred against her, as against himself, and that it was very
possible that something might happen soon. Hence he remained upon his
tower on the watch, "dreaming in his dream-place," as Rabelais says,
with his eye directed alternately on the cell and on Paris, keeping
faithful guard, like a good dog, with a thousand suspicions in his mind.

All at once, while he was scrutinizing the great city with that eye
which nature, by a sort of compensation, had made so piercing that it
could almost supply the other organs which Quasimodo lacked, it
seemed to him that there was something singular about the Quay de la
Vieille-Pelleterie, that there was a movement at that point, that the
line of the parapet, standing out blackly against the whiteness of the
water was not straight and tranquil, like that of the other quays, but
that it undulated to the eye, like the waves of a river, or like the
heads of a crowd in motion.

This struck him as strange. He redoubled his attention. The movement
seemed to be advancing towards the City. There was no light. It lasted
for some time on the quay; then it gradually ceased, as though that
which was passing were entering the interior of the island; then
it stopped altogether, and the line of the quay became straight and
motionless again.

At the moment when Qu