Name: 第11冊--《聖母院的駝背》有聲讀物，維克多-雨果著 (第1-4章) (Book 11 - The Hunchback of Notre Dame Audiobook by Victor Hugo (Chs 1-4))
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La Esmeralda was sleeping at the moment when the outcasts assailed the church.

Soon the ever-increasing uproar around the edifice, and the uneasy bleating of her

goat which had been awakened, had roused her from her slumbers.

She had sat up, she had listened, she had looked; then, terrified by the light and

noise, she had rushed from her cell to see.

The aspect of the Place, the vision which was moving in it, the disorder of that

nocturnal assault, that hideous crowd, leaping like a cloud of frogs, half seen in

multitude, those few red torches running and crossing each other in the darkness

like the meteors which streak the misty surfaces of marshes, this whole scene

mysterious battle between the phantoms of the witches' sabbath and the stone monsters

Imbued from her very infancy with the superstitions of the Bohemian tribe, her

first thought was that she had caught the strange beings peculiar to the night, in

Then she ran in terror to cower in her cell, asking of her pallet some less

But little by little the first vapors of terror had been dissipated; from the

constantly increasing noise, and from many other signs of reality, she felt herself

besieged not by spectres, but by human beings.

Then her fear, though it did not increase, changed its character.

She had dreamed of the possibility of a popular mutiny to tear her from her asylum.

The idea of once more recovering life, hope, Phoebus, who was ever present in her

future, the extreme helplessness of her condition, flight cut off, no support, her

abandonment, her isolation,--these thoughts and a thousand others overwhelmed her.

She fell upon her knees, with her head on her bed, her hands clasped over her head,

full of anxiety and tremors, and, although a gypsy, an idolater, and a pagan, she

began to entreat with sobs, mercy from the

good Christian God, and to pray to our Lady, her hostess.

For even if one believes in nothing, there are moments in life when one is always of

the religion of the temple which is nearest at hand.

She remained thus prostrate for a very long time, trembling in truth, more than

praying, chilled by the ever-closer breath of that furious multitude, understanding

nothing of this outburst, ignorant of what

was being plotted, what was being done, what they wanted, but foreseeing a terrible

issue. In the midst of this anguish, she heard

She turned round. Two men, one of whom carried a lantern, had

just entered her cell. She uttered a feeble cry.

"Fear nothing," said a voice which was not unknown to her, "it is I."

"Who are you?" she asked. "Pierre Gringoire."

She raised her eyes once more, and recognized the poet in very fact.

But there stood beside him a black figure veiled from head to foot, which struck her

"Oh!" continued Gringoire in a tone of reproach, "Djali recognized me before you!"

The little goat had not, in fact, waited for Gringoire to announce his name.

No sooner had he entered than it rubbed itself gently against his knees, covering

the poet with caresses and with white hairs, for it was shedding its hair.

"Who is this with you?" said the gypsy, in a low voice.

"Be at ease," replied Gringoire. "'Tis one of my friends."

Then the philosopher setting his lantern on the ground, crouched upon the stones, and

exclaimed enthusiastically, as he pressed Djali in his arms,--

"Oh! 'tis a graceful beast, more considerable no doubt, for it's neatness

than for its size, but ingenious, subtle, and lettered as a grammarian!

Let us see, my Djali, hast thou forgotten any of thy pretty tricks?

How does Master Jacques Charmolue?..." The man in black did not allow him to

He approached Gringoire and shook him roughly by the shoulder.

Gringoire rose. "'Tis true," said he: "I forgot that we are

But that is no reason master, for getting furious with people in this manner.

My dear and lovely child, your life is in danger, and Djali's also.

We are your friends, and we have come to save you.

Follow us." "Is it true?" she exclaimed in dismay.

Come quickly!" "I am willing," she stammered.

"Ah!" said Gringoire, "'tis because his father and mother were fantastic people who

made him of a taciturn temperament." She was obliged to content herself with

Gringoire took her by the hand; his companion picked up the lantern and walked

on in front. Fear stunned the young girl.

The goat followed them, frisking, so joyous at seeing Gringoire again that it made him

stumble every moment by thrusting its horns between his legs.

"Such is life," said the philosopher, every time that he came near falling down; "'tis

often our best friends who cause us to be overthrown."

They rapidly descended the staircase of the towers, crossed the church, full of shadows

and solitude, and all reverberating with uproar, which formed a frightful contrast,

and emerged into the courtyard of the cloister by the red door.

The cloister was deserted; the canons had fled to the bishop's palace in order to

pray together; the courtyard was empty, a few frightened lackeys were crouching in

They directed their steps towards the door which opened from this court upon the

Terrain. The man in black opened it with a key which

Our readers are aware that the Terrain was a tongue of land enclosed by walls on the

side of the City and belonging to the chapter of Notre-Dame, which terminated the

They found this enclosure perfectly deserted.

There was here less tumult in the air. The roar of the outcasts' assault reached

them more confusedly and less clamorously.

The fresh breeze which follows the current of a stream, rustled the leaves of the only

tree planted on the point of the Terrain, with a noise that was already perceptible.

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第11冊--《聖母院的駝背》有聲讀物，維克多-雨果著 (第1-4章) (Book 11 - The Hunchback of Notre Dame Audiobook by Victor Hugo (Chs 1-4))

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