“no one wants him? once, twice, three times!” and, turning towards the gibbet with a sign of his hand, “Gone!”

Bellevigne de l’Etoile, Andry the Red, Fran�ois Chante-Prune, stepped up to Gringoire.

At that moment a cry arose among the thieves: “La Esmeralda! La Esmeralda!”

Gringoire shuddered, and turned towards the side whence the clamor proceeded.

The crowd opened, and gave passage to a pure and dazzling form.

It was the gypsy.

“La Esmeralda!” said Gringoire, stupefied in the midst of his emotions, by the abrupt manner in which that magic word knotted together all his reminiscences of the day.