Jehan flung back his blonde and curly head, and said, half-closing his eyes disdainfully,—
"We have a brother who is an archdeacon and a fool."
"Corne de Dieu!" exclaimed Phœbus," the worthy man!"
"Let us go and drink," said Jehan.
"Where shall we go?" said Phœbus; "'To Eve's Apple.'"
"No, captain, to 'Ancient Science.' An old woman sawing a basket handle;[1] 'tis a rebus, and I like that."
" A plague on rebuses, Jehan! the wine is better at 'Eve's Apple'; and then, beside the door there is a vine in the sun which cheers me while I am drinking."
"Well! here goes for Eve and her apple," said the student, and taking Phœbus's arm. "By the way, my dear captain, you just mentioned the Rue Coupe-Gueule.[2] That is a very bad form of speech; people are no longer so barbarous. They say, Coupe-Gorge."[3]
The two friends set out towards "Eve's Apple." It is unnecessary to mention that they had first gathered up the money, and that the archdeacon followed them.
The archdeacon followed them, gloomy and haggard. Was this the Phœbus whose accursed name had been mingled with all his thoughts ever since his interview with Gringoire? He did not know it, but it was at least a Phœbus, and that magic name sufficed to make the archdeacon follow the two heedless comrades with the stealthy tread of a wolf, listening to their words and observing their slightest gestures with anxious attention. Moreover, nothing was easier than to hear everything they said, as they talked loudly, not in the least concerned that the passers-by were taken into their confidence. They talked of duels, wenches, wine pots, and folly.
At the turning of a street, the sound of a tambourine reached them from a neighboring square. Dom Claude heard the officer say to the scholar,—
"Thunder! Let us hasten our steps!"
"Why, Phœbus?"
"I'm afraid lest the Bohemian should see me."
