hat he lacks."

In the meantime, all the beggars, all the lackeys, all the cutpurses,
joined with the scholars, had gone in procession to seek, in the
cupboard of the law clerks' company, the cardboard tiara, and the
derisive robe of the Pope of the Fools. Quasimodo allowed them to array
him in them without wincing, and with a sort of proud docility. Then
they made him seat himself on a motley litter. Twelve officers of the
fraternity of fools raised him on their shoulders; and a sort of bitter
and disdainful joy lighted up the morose face of the cyclops, when he
beheld beneath his deformed feet all those heads of handsome, straight,
well-made men. Then the ragged and howling procession set out on its
march, according to custom, around the inner galleries of the Courts,
before making the circuit of the streets and squares.

CHAPTER VI. ESMERALDA.

We are delighted to be able to inform the reader, that during the whole
of this scene, Gringoire and his piece had stood firm. His actors,
spurred on by him, had not ceased to spout his comedy, and he had not
ceased to listen to it. He had made up his mind about the tumult, and
was determined to proceed to the end, not giving up the hope of a return
of attention on the part of the public. This gleam of hope acquired
fresh life, when he saw Quasimodo, Coppenole, and the deafening escort
of the pope of the procession of fools quit the hall amid great uproar.
The throng rushed eagerly after them. "Good," he said to himself, "there
go all the mischief-makers." Unfortunately, all the mischief-makers
constituted the entire audience. In the twinkling of an eye, the grand
hall was empty.

To tell the truth, a few spectators still remained, some scattered,
others in groups around the pillars, women, old men, or children,
who had had enough of the uproar and tumult. Some scholars were still
perched astride of the window-sills, engaged in gazing into the Place.

"Well," thought Gringoire, "here are still as many as are required to
hear the end of my mystery. They are few in number, but it is a choice
audience, a lettered audience."

An instant later, a symphony which had been intended to produce the
greatest effect on the arrival of the Virgin, was lacking. Gringoire
perceived that his music had been carried off by the procession of the
Pope of the Fools. "Skip it," said he, stoically.

He approached a group of bourgeois, who seemed to him to be discussing
his piece. Th