END OF THE STORY OF THE CAKE.
La Esmeralda and from the pillory, as she went. The voice of the still her,—
“Descend! descend! Thief of Egypt! it once more!”
“The is in one of her tantrums,” the populace; and that was the end of it. For that of woman was feared; which them sacred. People did not then attack one who prayed day and night.
The hour had for Quasimodo. He was unbound, the dispersed.
Near the Grand Pont, Mahiette, who was returning with her two companions, halted,—
“By the way, Eustache! what did you do with that cake?”
“Mother,” said the child, “while you were talking with that lady in the bole, a big dog took a bite of my cake, and then I it also.”
“What, sir, did you eat the whole of it?” she on.
“Mother, it was the dog. I told him, but he would not to me. Then I into it, also.”
“’Tis a terrible child!” said the mother, and at one and the same time. “Do you see, Oudarde? He already eats all the fruit from the cherry-tree in our of Charlerange. So his says that he will be a captain. Just let me catch you at it again, Master Eustache. Come along, you fellow!”
VOLUME II.
BOOK SEVENTH.
