The sort of living being which lay upon that plank on the morning of
Quasimodo, in the year of the Lord, 1467, appeared to excite to a high
degree, the curiosity of the numerous group which had congregated about
the wooden bed. The group was formed for the most part of the fair sex.
Hardly any one was there except old women.

In the first row, and among those who were most bent over the bed, four
were noticeable, who, from their gray _cagoule_, a sort of cassock, were
recognizable as attached to some devout sisterhood. I do not see
why history has not transmitted to posterity the names of these four
discreet and venerable damsels. They were Agnes la Herme, Jehanne de la
Tarme, Henriette la Gaultiere, Gauchere la Violette, all four widows,
all four dames of the Chapel Etienne Haudry, who had quitted their
house with the permission of their mistress, and in conformity with the
statutes of Pierre d'Ailly, in order to come and hear the sermon.

However, if these good Haudriettes were, for the moment, complying with
the statutes of Pierre d'Ailly, they certainly violated with joy those
of Michel de Brache, and the Cardinal of Pisa, which so inhumanly
enjoined silence upon them.

"What is this, sister?" said Agnes to Gauchere, gazing at the little
creature exposed, which was screaming and writhing on the wooden bed,
terrified by so many glances.

"What is to become of us," said Jehanne, "if that is the way children
are made now?"

"I'm not learned in the matter of children," resumed Agnes, "but it must
be a sin to look at this one."

"'Tis not a child, Agnes."

"'Tis an abortion of a monkey," remarked Gauchere.

"'Tis a miracle," interposed Henriette la Gaultiere.

"Then," remarked Agnes, "it is the third since the Sunday of the
_Loetare_: for, in less than a week, we had the miracle of the mocker of
pilgrims divinely punished by Notre-Dame d'Aubervilliers, and that was
the second miracle within a month."

"This pretended foundling is a real monster of abomination," resumed
Jehanne.

"He yells loud enough to deafen a chanter," continued Gauchere. "Hold
your tongue, you little howler!"

"To think that Monsieur of Reims sent this enormity to Monsieur of
Paris," added la Gaultiere, clasping her hands.

"I imagine," said Agnes la Herme, "that it is a beast, an animal,--the
fruit of--a Jew and a sow; something not Christian, in short, which
ought to be thrown into the fire or into the water."

"I really hope," re