hands, you, Andry the Red, will fling the stool to the ground with a blow of your knee; you, Franqois Chante-Prune, will cling to the feet of the rascal; and you, Bellevigne, will fling yourself on his shoulders; and all three at once, do you hear?"
Gringoire shuddered.
"Are you ready?" said Clopin Trouillefou to the three thieves, who held themselves in readiness to fall upon Gringoire. A moment of horrible suspense ensued for the poor victim, during which Clopin tranquilly thrust into the fire with the tip of his foot, some bits of vine shoots which the flame had not caught. " Are you ready? " he repeated, and opened his hands to clap. One second more and all would have been over.
But he paused, as though struck by a sudden thought.
"One moment!" said he; "I forgot! It is our custom not to hang a man without inquiring whether there is any woman who wants him. Comrade, this is your last resource. You must wed either a female vagabond or the noose."
This law of the vagabonds, singular as it may strike the reader, remains to-day written out at length, in ancient English legislation. (See Burington's Observations.)
Gringoire breathed again. This was the second time that he had returned to life within an hour. So he did not dare to trust to it too implicitly.
"Holá!" cried Clopin, mounted once more upon his cask, "holá! women, females, is there among you, from the sorceress to her cat, a wench who wants this rascal? Hola, Colette la Charonne! Elisabeth Trouvain! Simone Jodouyne! Marie Piédebou! Thonne la Longue! Bérarde Fanouel! Michelle Genaille! Claude Eonge-oreille! Mathurine Girorou! Holá! Isabeau-la-Thierrye! Come and see! A man for nothing! Who wants him?"
Gringoire, no doubt, was not very appetizing in this miserable condition. The female vagabonds did not seem to be much affected by the proposition. The unhappy wretch heard them answer: "No! no! hang him; there'll be the more fun for us all!"
