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Charmolue was stupefied； as well as the executioners and the entire escort。 In fact； within the bounds of Notre…Dame； the condemned girl could not be touched。 The cathedral was a place of refuge。 All temporal jurisdiction expired upon its threshold。
Quasimodo had halted beneath the great portal； his huge feet seemed as solid on the pavement of the church as the heavy Roman pillars。 His great； bushy head sat low between his shoulders； like the heads of lions； who also have a mane and no neck。 He held the young girl； who was quivering all over； suspended from his horny hands like a white drapery； but he carried her with as much care as though he feared to break her or blight her。 One would have said that he felt that she was a delicate； exquisite； precious thing； made for other hands than his。 There were moments when he looked as if not daring to touch her； even with his breath。 Then； all at once； he would press her forcibly in his arms； against his angular bosom； like his own possession； his treasure； as the mother of that child would have done。 His gnome's eye； fastened upon her； inundated her with tenderness； sadness； and pity； and was suddenly raised filled with lightnings。 Then the women laughed and wept； the crowd stamped with enthusiasm； for； at that moment Quasimodo had a beauty of his own。 He was handsome； he； that orphan； that foundling； that outcast； he felt himself august and strong； he gazed in the face of that society from which he was banished； and in which he had so powerfully intervened； of that human justice from which he had wrenched its prey； of all those tigers whose jaws were forced to remain empty； of those policemen； those judges； those executioners； of all that force of the king which he； the meanest of creatures； had just broken； with the force of God。
And then； it was touching to behold this protection which had fallen from a being so hideous upon a being so unhappy； a creature condemned to death saved by Quasimodo。 They were two extremes of natural and social wretchedness； coming into contact and aiding each other。
Meanwhile； after several moments of triumph； Quasimodo had plunged abruptly into the church with his burden。 The populace； fond of all prowess； sought him with their eyes； beneath the gloomy nave； regretting that he had so speedily disappeared from their acclamations。 All at once； he was seen to re…appear at one of the extremities of the gallery of the kings of France； he traversed it； running like a madman； raising his conquest high in his arms and shouting： 〃Sanctuary！〃 The crowd broke forth into fresh applause。 The gallery passed； he plunged once more into the interior of the church。 A moment later； he re…appeared upon the upper platform； with the gypsy still in his arms； still running madly； still crying； 〃Sanctuary！〃 and the throng applauded。 Finally； he made his appearance for the third time upon the summit of the tower where hung the great bell； from that point he seemed to be showing to the entire city the girl whom he had saved； and his voice of thunder； that voice which was so rarely heard； and which he never heard himself； repeated thrice with frenzy； even to the clouds： 〃Sanctuary！ Sanctuary！ Sanctuary！〃
〃Noel！ Noel！〃 shouted the populace in its turn； and that immense acclamation flew to astonish the crowd assembled at the Grève on the other bank； and the recluse who was still waiting with her eyes riveted on the gibbet。
BOOK NINTH。
CHAPTER I。
DELIRIUM。
Claude Frollo was no longer in Notre…Dame when his adopted son so abruptly cut the fatal web in which the archdeacon and the gypsy were entangled。 On returning to the sacristy he had torn off his alb； cope； and stole； had flung all into the hands of the stupefied beadle； had made his escape through the private door of the cloister； had ordered a boatman of the Terrain to transport him to the left bank of the Seine； and had plunged into the hilly streets of the University； not knowing whither he was going； encountering at every step groups of men and women who were hurrying joyously towards the Pont Saint…Michel； in the hope of still arriving in time to see the witch hung there；pale； wild； more troubled； more blind and more fierce than a night bird let loose and pursued by a troop of children in broad daylight。 He no longer knew where he was； what he thought； or whether he were dreaming。 He went forward； walking； running； taking any street at haphazard； making no choice； only urged ever onward away from the Grève； the horrible Grève； which he felt confusedly； to be behind him。
In this manner he skirted Mount Sainte…Geneviève； and finally emerged from the town by the Porte Saint…Victor。 He continued his flight as long as he could see； when he turned round； the turreted enclosure of the University； and the rare houses of the suburb； but； when； at length； a rise of ground had completely concealed from him that odious Paris； when he could believe himself to be a hundred leagues distant from it； in the fields； in the desert； he halted； and it seemed to him that he breathed more freely。
Then frightful ideas thronged his mind。 Once more he could see clearly into his soul； and he shuddered。 He thought of that unhappy girl who had destroyed him； and whom he had destroyed。 He cast a haggard eye over the double； tortuous way which fate had caused their two destinies to pursue up to their point of intersection； where it had dashed them against each other without mercy。 He meditated on the folly of eternal vows； on the vanity of chastity； of science； of religion； of virtue； on the uselessness of God。 He plunged to his heart's content in evil thoughts； and in proportion as he sank deeper； he felt a Satanic laugh burst forth within him。
And as he thus sifted his soul to the bottom； when he perceived how large a space nature had prepared there for the passions； he sneered still more bitterly。 He stirred up in the depths of his heart all his hatred； all his malevolence； and； with the cold glance of a physician who examines a patient； he recognized the fact that this malevolence was nothing but vitiated love； that love； that source of every virtue in man； turned to horrible things in the heart of a priest； and that a man constituted like himself； in making himself a priest； made himself a demon。 Then he laughed frightfully； and suddenly became pale again； when he considered the most sinister side of his fatal passion； of that corrosive； venomous malignant； implacable love； which had ended only in the gibbet for one of them and in hell for the other； condemnation for her； damnation for him。
And then his laughter came again； when he reflected that Phoebus was alive； that after all； the captain lived； was gay and happy； had handsomer doublets than ever； and a new mistress whom he was conducting to see the old one hanged。 His sneer redoubled its bitterness when he reflected that out of the living beings whose death he had desired； the gypsy； the only creature whom he did not hate； was the only one who had not escaped him。
Then from the captain； his thought passed to the people； and there came to him a jealousy of an unprecedented sort。 He reflected that the people