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"Hoots, man! sit doon," he said quietly; "ye micht as weel try to rescue a kid frae the jaws o' a lion as rescue Andry Black frae the fangs o' Lauderdale an' his crew. But something may be dune when they're takin' him back to the Tolbooth if ye're a' wullin' to help. We mak' full twunty-four feet amangst us, an' oor shoothers are braid!"
"Captain Clopin," said Andry the Red, "he slipped away before we reached the Pont-aux-Changeurs." Clopin stamped his foot. "Gueule-Dieu! 'twas he who pushed us on hither, and he has deserted us in the very middle of the job! Cowardly chatterer, with a slipper for a helmet!" "Captain Clopin," said Andry the Red, who was gazing down Rue du Parvis, "yonder is the little scholar."
A very happy personage in the year of grace 1482, was the noble gentleman Robert d'Estouteville, chevalier, Sieur de Beyne, Baron d'Ivry and Saint Andry en la Marche, counsellor and chamberlain to the king, and guard of the provostship of Paris.
It is impossible to describe the astonishment mingled with fright which fell upon the ruffians in company with this beam. They remained for several minutes with their eyes in the air, more dismayed by that piece of wood than by the king's twenty thousand archers. "Satan!" muttered the Duke of Egypt, "this smacks of magic!" "'Tis the moon which threw this log at us," said Andry the Red.
"Down with them!" put in little Jehan, as counterpoint; "down with Master Andry, the beadles and the scribes; the theologians, the doctors and the decretists; the procurators, the electors and the rector!" "The end of the world has come!, muttered Master Andry, stopping up his ears. "By the way, there's the rector! see, he is passing through the Place," cried one of those in the window.
I went ower to the tombstane that keeps the east wund aff him, an' he said to me, `Andry, man, said he, `I'll no' be able to crawl to see my mither the day. I'll vera likely be deid before she comes. Wull ye tell her no' to greet for me, for I'm restin' on the Lord Jesus, an' I'll be a free man afore night, singing the praises o' redeeming love, and waitin' for her to come?"
"Now," resumed Clopin Trouillefou, "as soon as I clap my hands, you, Andry the Red, will fling the stool to the ground with a blow of your knee; you, Francois 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.
Bellevigne de l'Etoile, Andry the Red, Francois Chante-Prune, stepped up to Gringoire. At that moment a cry arose among the thieves: "La Esmeralda! La Esmeralda!" Gringoire shuddered, and turned towards the side whence the clamor proceeded. The crowd opened, and gave passage to a pure and dazzling form. It was the gypsy.
"I ask no better," said Oudarde with a sigh, "but I am waiting until it shall suit the good pleasure of M. Andry Musnier." "However, Paquette's child had more that was pretty about it besides its feet. I saw her when she was only four months old; she was a love! She had eyes larger than her mouth, and the most charming black hair, which already curled.
"Master Andry," pursued Jean Jehan, still clinging to his capital, "hold your tongue, or I'll drop on your head!" Master Andry raised his eyes, seemed to measure in an instant the height of the pillar, the weight of the scamp, mentally multiplied that weight by the square of the velocity and remained silent.
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