In the meantime, public minor had informed the archdeacon of the miraculous manner in which the gypsy had been saved. When he learned it, he knew not what his sensations were. He had reconciled himself to la Esmeralda's death. In that matter he was tranquil; he had reached the bottom of personal suffering. The human heart (Dora Claude had meditated upon these matters) can contain only a certain quantity of despair. When the sponge is saturated, the sea may pass over it without causing a single drop more to enter it.
       Now, with la Esmeralda dead, the sponge was soaked, all was at an end on this earth for Dom Claude. But to feel that she was alive, and Phoebus also, meant that tortures, shocks, alternatives, life, were beginning again. And Claude was weary of all this.
       When he heard this news, he shut himself in his cell in the cloister. He appeared neither at the meetings of the chapter nor at the services. He closed his door against all, even against the bishop. He remained thus immured for several weeks. He was believed to be ill. And so he was, in fact.
       What did he do while thus shut up? With what thoughts was the unfortunate man contending? Was he giving final battle to his formidable passion? Was he concocting a final plan of death for her and of perdition for himself?
       His Jehan, his cherished brother, his spoiled child, came once to his door, knocked, swore, entreated, gave his name half a score of times. Claude did not open.
       He passed whole days with his face close to the panes of his window. From that window, situated in the cloister, he could see la Esmeralda's chamber. He often saw herself with her goat, sometimes with Quasimodo. He remarked the little attentions of the ugly deaf man, his obedience, his delicate and submissive ways with the gypsy. He recalled, for he had a good memory, and memory is the tormentor of the jealous, he recalled the singular look of the bellringer, bent on the dancer upon a certain evening. He asked himself what motive could have impelled Quasimodo to save her. He was the witness of a thousand little scenes between the gypsy and the deaf man, the pantomime of which, viewed from afar and commented on by his passion, appeared very tender to him. He distrusted the capriciousness of women. Then he felt a jealousy which be could never have believed possible awakening within him, a jealousy which made him redden with shame and indignation: "One might condone the captain, but this one!" This thought upset him.
       His nights were frightful. As soon as he learned that the gypsy was alive, the cold ideas of spectre and tomb which had persecuted him for a whole day vanished, and the flesh returned to goad him. He turned and twisted on his couch at the thought that the dark-skinned maiden was so near him.
       Every night his delirious imagination represented la Esmeralda to him in all the attitudes which had caused his blood to boil most. He beheld her outstretched upon the poniarded captain, her eyes closed, her beautiful bare throat covered with Phoebus's blood, at that moment of bliss when the archdeacon had imprinted on her pale lips that kiss whose burn the unhappy girl, though half dead, had felt. He beheld her, again, stripped by the savage hands of the torturers, allowing them to bare and to enclose in the boot with its iron screw, her tiny foot, her delicate rounded leg, her white and supple knee. Again he beheld that ivory knee which alone remained outside of Torterue's horrible apparatus. Lastly, he pictured the young girl in her shift, with the rope about her neck, shoulders bare, feet bare, almost nude, as he had seen her on that last day. These images of voluptuousness made him clench his fists, and a shiver run along his spine.
       One night, among others, they heated so cruelly his virgin and priestly blood, that he bit his pillow, leaped from his bed, flung on a surplice over his shirt, and left his cell, lamp in hand, half naked, wild, his eyes aflame.
       He knew where to find the key to the red door, which connected the cloister with the church, and he always had about him, as the reader knows, the key of the staircase leading to the towers.

Preface.
book first
   Chapter 1. The Grand Hall.
   Chapter II. Pierre Gringoire.
   Chapter III. Monsieur the Cardinal.
   Chapter IV. Master Jacques Coppenole.
   Chapter V. Quasimodo.
   Chapter VI. Esmeralda.
book second
   Chapter I. From Charybdis to Scylla.
   Chapter II. The Place de Greve.
   Chapter III. Kisses for Blows.
   Chapter IV. The Inconveniences of Following A Pretty Woman Through the Streets in the Evening.
   Chapter V. Result of the Dangers.
   Chapter VI. The Broken Jug.
   Chapter VII. A Bridal Night.
book third
   Chapter I. Notre-Dame.
   Chapter II. A Bird's-Eye View of Paris.
book fourth
   Chapter I. Good Souls.
   Chapter II. Claude Frollo.
   Chapter III. Immanis Pecoris Custos, Immanior Ipse.
   Chapter IV. The Dog and His Master.
   Chapter V. More About Claude Frollo.
   Chapter VI. Unpopularity.
book fifth
   Chapter I. Abbas Beati Martini.
   Chapter II. This Will Kill That.
book sixth
   Chapter I. An Impartial Glance at the Ancient Magistracy.
   Chapter II. The Rat-Hole.
   Chapter III. History of a Leavened Cake of Maize.
   Chapter IV. A Tear for a Drop of Water.
   Chapter V. End of the Story of the Cake.
book seventh
   Chapter I. The Danger of Confiding One's Secret to a Goat.
   Chapter II. A Priest and a Philosopher are Two Different Things.
   Chapter III. The Bells.
   Chapter IV. ANArKH.
   Chapter V. The Two Men Clothed in Black.
   Chapter VI. The Effect Which Seven Oaths in the Open Air can Produce.
   Chapter VII. The Mysterious Monk.
   Chapter VIII. The Utility of Windows Which Open on the River.
book eighth
   Chapter I. The Crown Changed into a Dry Leaf.
   Chapter II. Continuation of the Crown Which was Changed into a Dry Leaf.
   Chapter III. End of the CRown Which was Turned into a Dry Leaf.
   Chapter IV. Lasciate Ogni Speranza--Leave All Hope Behind, Ye Who Enter Here.
   Chapter V. The Mother.
   Chapter VI. Three Human Hearts Differently Constructed.
book ninth
   Chapter I. Delirium.
   Chapter II. Hunchbacked, One Eyed, Lame.
   Chapter III. Deaf.
   Chapter IV. Earthenware and Crystal.
   Chapter V. The Key to the Red Door.
   Chapter VI. Continuation of the Key to the Red Door.
book tenth
   Chapter I. Gringoire Has Many Good Ideas in Succession.--Rue des Bernardins.
   Chapter II. Turn Vagabond.
   Chapter III. Long Live Mirth.
   Chapter IV. An Awkward Friend.
   Chapter V. The Retreat in which Monsieur Louis of France Says His Prayers.
   Chapter VI. Little Sword in Pocket.
   Chapter VII. Chateaupers to the Rescue.
book eleventh
   Chapter I. The Little Shoe.
   Chapter II. The Beautiful Creature Clad in White. (Dante.)
   Chapter III. The Marriage of Phoebus.
   Chapter IV. The Marriage of Quasimodo.