Philippe Lheulier, advocate extraordinary to the king,
interposed once more.

"I will recall to these gentlemen, that in the deposition taken at his
bedside, the assassinated officer, while declaring that he had a vague
idea when the black man accosted him that the latter might be the surly
monk, added that the phantom had pressed him eagerly to go and make
acquaintance with the accused; and upon his, the captain's, remarking
that he had no money, he had given him the crown which the said officer
paid to la Falourdel. Hence, that crown is the money of hell."

This conclusive observation appeared to dissipate all the doubts of
Gringoire and the other sceptics in the audience.

"You have the documents, gentlemen," added the king's advocate, as
he took his seat; "you can consult the testimony of Phoebus de
Chateaupers."

At that name, the accused sprang up, her head rose above the throng.
Gringoire with horror recognized la Esmeralda.

She was pale; her tresses, formerly so gracefully braided and spangled
with sequins, hung in disorder; her lips were blue, her hollow eyes were
terrible. Alas!

"Phoebus!" she said, in bewilderment; "where is he? O messeigneurs!
before you kill me, tell me, for pity sake, whether he still lives?"

"Hold your tongue, woman," replied the president, "that is no affair of
ours."

"Oh! for mercy's sake, tell me if he is alive!" she repeated, clasping
her beautiful emaciated hands; and the sound of her chains in contact
with her dress, was heard.

"Well!" said the king's advocate roughly, "he is dying. Are you
satisfied?"

The unhappy girl fell back on her criminal's seat, speechless, tearless,
white as a wax figure.

The president bent down to a man at his feet, who wore a gold cap and a
black gown, a chain on his neck and a wand in his hand.

"Bailiff, bring in the second accused."

All eyes turned towards a small door, which opened, and, to the great
agitation of Gringoire, gave passage to a pretty goat with horns and
hoofs of gold. The elegant beast halted for a moment on the threshold,
stretching out its neck as though, perched on the summit of a rock, it
had before its eyes an immense horizon. Suddenly it caught sight of the
gypsy girl, and leaping over the table and the head of a clerk, in two
bounds it was at her knees; then it rolled gracefully on its mistress's
feet, soliciting a word or a caress; but the accused remained
motionless, and poor Djali himself obtained not a