cyclops!” he muttered between his teeth; and he tried to rise. But he was too much dazed and bruised; he was forced to remain where he was. Moreover, his hand was tolerably free; he stopped up his nose and resigned himself.

“The mud of Paris,” he said to himself — for decidedly he thought that he was sure that the gutter would prove his refuge for the night; and what can one do in a refuge, except dream? — “the mud of Paris is particularly stinking; it must contain a great deal of volatile and nitric salts.

That, moreover, is the opinion of Master Nicholas Flamel, and of the alchemists — “

The word “alchemists” suddenly suggested to his mind the idea of Archdeacon Claude Frollo.