here, like
the embattled parapet of a fortress; of that callous lip, upon which one
of these teeth encroached, like the tusk of an elephant; of that forked
chin; and above all, of the expression spread over the whole; of that
mixture of malice, amazement, and sadness. Let the reader dream of this
whole, if he can.

* The ancient French hurrah.

The acclamation was unanimous; people rushed towards the chapel. They
made the lucky Pope of the Fools come forth in triumph. But it was then
that surprise and admiration attained their highest pitch; the grimace
was his face.

Or rather, his whole person was a grimace. A huge head, bristling
with red hair; between his shoulders an enormous hump, a counterpart
perceptible in front; a system of thighs and legs so strangely astray
that they could touch each other only at the knees, and, viewed from
the front, resembled the crescents of two scythes joined by the
handles; large feet, monstrous hands; and, with all this deformity,
an indescribable and redoubtable air of vigor, agility, and
courage,--strange exception to the eternal rule which wills that force
as well as beauty shall be the result of harmony. Such was the pope whom
the fools had just chosen for themselves.

One would have pronounced him a giant who had been broken and badly put
together again.

When this species of cyclops appeared on the threshold of the chapel,
motionless, squat, and almost as broad as he was tall; squared on the
base, as a great man says; with his doublet half red, half violet, sown
with silver bells, and, above all, in the perfection of his ugliness,
the populace recognized him on the instant, and shouted with one
voice,--

"'Tis Quasimodo, the bellringer! 'tis Quasimodo, the hunchback of
Notre-Dame! Quasimodo, the one-eyed! Quasimodo, the bandy-legged! Noel!
Noel!"

It will be seen that the poor fellow had a choice of surnames.

"Let the women with child beware!" shouted the scholars.

"Or those who wish to be," resumed Joannes.

The women did, in fact, hide their faces.

"Oh! the horrible monkey!" said one of them.

"As wicked as he is ugly," retorted another.

"He's the devil," added a third.

"I have the misfortune to live near Notre-Dame; I hear him prowling
round the eaves by night."

"With the cats."

"He's always on our roofs."

"He throws spells down our chimneys."

"The other evening, he came and made a grimace at me through my attic
window. I thought t