The archdeacon and the bellringer, as we have already said, were butlittle loved by the populace great and small, in the vicinity of thecathedral. When Claude and Quasimodo went out together, which frequentlyhappened, and when they were seen traversing in company, the valetbehind the master, the cold, narrow, and gloomy streets of the block ofNotre-Dame, more than one evil word, more than one ironical quaver, morethan one insulting jest greeted them on their way, unless Claude Frollo,which was rarely the case, walked with head upright and raised, showinghis severe and almost august brow to the dumbfounded jeerers.
Both were in their quarter like "the poets" of whom Regnier speaks,--
"All sorts of persons run after poets, As warblers fly shrieking after owls."
Sometimes a mischievous child risked his skin and bones for theineffable pleasure of driving a pin into Quasimodo's hump. Again, ayoung girl, more bold and saucy than was fitting, brushed the priest'sblack robe, singing in his face the sardonic ditty, "niche, niche, thedevil is caught." Sometimes a group of squalid old crones, squatting ina file under the shadow of the steps to a porch, scolded noisily as thearchdeacon and the bellringer passed, and tossed them this encouragingwelcome, with a curse: "Hum! there's a fellow whose soul is made likethe other one's body!" Or a band of schoolboys and street urchins,playing hop-scotch, rose in a body and saluted him classically, withsome cry in Latin: "_Eia! eia! Claudius cum claudo_!"
But the insult generally passed unnoticed both by the priest and thebellringer. Quasimodo was too deaf to hear all these gracious things,and Claude was too dreamy.
BOOK FIFTH.
CHAPTER I. _ABBAS BEATI MARTINI_.