losopher
who knew many things and was ignorant of many. He was a priest, austere,
grave, morose; one charged with souls; monsieur the archdeacon of Josas,
the bishop's second acolyte, having charge of the two deaneries of
Montlhery, and Chateaufort, and one hundred and seventy-four country
curacies. He was an imposing and sombre personage, before whom the choir
boys in alb and in jacket trembled, as well as the machicots*, and the
brothers of Saint-Augustine and the matutinal clerks of Notre-Dame,
when he passed slowly beneath the lofty arches of the choir, majestic,
thoughtful, with arms folded and his head so bent upon his breast that
all one saw of his face was his large, bald brow.

* An official of Notre-Dame, lower than a beneficed clergyman,
higher than simple paid chanters.

Dom Claude Frollo had, however, abandoned neither science nor the
education of his young brother, those two occupations of his life. But
as time went on, some bitterness had been mingled with these things
which were so sweet. In the long run, says Paul Diacre, the best lard
turns rancid. Little Jehan Frollo, surnamed (_du Moulin_) "of the Mill"
because of the place where he had been reared, had not grown up in the
direction which Claude would have liked to impose upon him. The big
brother counted upon a pious, docile, learned, and honorable pupil. But
the little brother, like those young trees which deceive the gardener's
hopes and turn obstinately to the quarter whence they receive sun and
air, the little brother did not grow and did not multiply, but only
put forth fine bushy and luxuriant branches on the side of laziness,
ignorance, and debauchery. He was a regular devil, and a very disorderly
one, who made Dom Claude scowl; but very droll and very subtle, which
made the big brother smile.

Claude had confided him to that same college of Torchi where he had
passed his early years in study and meditation; and it was a grief to
him that this sanctuary, formerly edified by the name of Frollo, should
to-day be scandalized by it. He sometimes preached Jehan very long and
severe sermons, which the latter intrepidly endured. After all, the
young scapegrace had a good heart, as can be seen in all comedies.
But the sermon over, he none the less tranquilly resumed his course of
seditions and enormities. Now it was a _bejaune_ or yellow beak (as they
called the new arrivals at the university), whom he had been mauling by
way of welcome;