In the midst of the shadows of the spiral staircase he elbowed something which moved aside with a growl; he took it for granted that it was Quasimodo, and this struck him as so droll that he held his sides with laughter all the rest of the way down. As he came out into the public square, he was still laughing.
He stamped his foot when he found himself on solid ground once more. “Oh,” said he, “good and honorable pavement of Paris! Cursed stairs, which would put all the angels of Jacob’s ladder out of breath! What was I thinking of when I poked myself into that stone gimlet which pierces the sky; and all to eat musty cheese, and to see the steeples of Paris through a garret window!”
He walked on a few paces, and saw the two screech-owls—that is to say, Dom Claude and Master Jacques Charmolue—lost in contemplation of a bit of carving on the porch. He approached them on tiptoe, and heard the archdeacon say in a very low voice to Charmolue, “It was Guillaume de Paris who had a Job graven on that lapis-lazuli colored stone, gilded at the edges. Job represents the philosopher’s stone, which must also be tried and tortured before it can become perfect, as Raymond Lulle says: ‘Sub conservatione form? specifice salva anima.”’cw
“That’s all one to me,” said Jehan. “‘Tis I who hold the purse.”
At this instant he heard a loud ringing voice pronounce a terrible string of oaths just behind him.
“Zounds! Odds bodikins! By the Rood! By Cock and pye! Damme! ‘Sdeath! Thunder and Mars!”
“By my soul,” exclaimed Jehan, “that can be no other than my friend Captain Ph?bus!”
The name of Ph?bus reached the archdeacon’s ears, just as he was explaining to the king’s proxy the dragon hiding his tail in a bath from which rise smoke and a king’s head. Dom Claude shuddered, stopped short, to the great surprise of Charmolue, turned, and saw his brother Jehan talking to a tall officer at the door of the Gondelaurier house.
It was indeed Captain Ph?bus de Chateaupers. He was leaning against the corner of his lady-love’s house, and swearing like a pirate.
“My word! Captain Ph?bus,” said Jehan, taking him by the hand, “you swear with admirable spirit!”
“Thunder and Mars!” replied the captain.
“Thunder and Mars, yourself!” responded the student. “Now, then, my fine captain, what has caused such an outburst of elegant epithets?”
“Your pardon, good comrade Jehan,” cried Ph?bus, shaking him by the hand; “but a horse running at full speed cannot stop short. Now, I was swearing at full gallop. I have just come from those prudes; and when I leave them, I always have my mouth full of oaths; I must needs spit them out, or I should choke. Thunder and guns!”
“Will you take a drink?” asked the student. This proposition calmed the captain.
“With pleasure; but I’ve no money.”
“But I have!”
“Pshaw! let me see!”
Jehan displayed the purse to the captain’s eyes, with dignity and simplicity. Meanwhile the archdeacon, having left the amazed Charmolue, had approached them, and stood some paces distant, watching them both unobserved by them, so absorbed were they in looking at the purse.
Ph?bus exclaimed, “A purse in your pocket, Jehan! That’s like the moon in a pail of water. I see it, but it is not really there. It’s only a shadow. By Heaven! I wager there’s nothing but pebbles in it!”
Jehan answered coldly, “I’ll show you the kind of pebbles that I pave my pocket with.”
And without another word he emptied the purse upon a neighboring post, with the air of a Roman saving his country.
“Good God!” muttered Phoebus; “gold pieces, big silver pieces, little silver pieces, crowns, shillings, and pence! It is dazzling!”
Jehan remained dignified and unmoved. A few pennies had rolled into the mud; the captain, in his enthusiasm, stooped to pick them up. Jehan restrained him, saying,— “Fie, Captain Phoebus de Chateaupers!”
Phoebus counted the money, and turning solemnly to Jehan, asked, “Do you know, Jehan, that you have here twenty-three crowns? Whom did you rob last night in the Rue Coupe-Gueule?”
Jehan threw back his fair curly head, and said, half closing his eyes in scorn,— “I have a brother who is an archdeacon and a fool.”
“Confound it!” cried Ph?bus; “so you have, the worthy fellow!”
“Let us take a drink,” said Jehan.
“Where shall we go?” said Phoebus; “to the Pomme d‘Eve!”