"Oh!" said the young girl, without raising her eyes, "do not despise me, monseigneur Phœbus. I feel that what I am doing is not right."
"Despise you, my pretty child!" replied the officer with an air of superior and distinguished gallantry," despise you, tête-Dieu! and why?"
"For having followed you!"
"On that point, my beauty, we don't agree. I ought not to despise you, but to hate you."
The young girl looked at him in affright: "Hate me! what have I done?"
"For having required so much urging."
"Alas!" said she, "'tis because I am breaking a vow. I shall not find my parents! The amulet will lose its virtue. But what matters it? What need have I of father or mother now?"
So saying, she fixed upon the captain her great black eyes, moist with joy and tenderness.
"Devil take me if I understand you!" exclaimed Phœbus.
La Esmeralda remained silent for a moment, then a tear dropped from her eyes, a sigh from her lips, and she said,—"Oh! monseigneur, I love you."
Such a perfume of chastity, such a charm of virtue surrounded the young girl, that Phœbus did not feel completely at his ease beside her. But this remark emboldened him: "You love me!" he said with rapture, and he threw his arm round the gypsy's waist. He had only been waiting for this opportunity.
The priest saw it, and tested with the tip of his finger the point of a poniard which he wore concealed in his breast.
"Phœbus," continued the Bohemian, gently releasing her waist from the captain's tenacious hands, "You are good, you are generous, you are handsome; you saved me, me who am only a poor child lost in Bohemia. I had long been dreaming of an officer who should save my life. 'Twas of you that I was dreaming, before I knew you, my Phœbus; the officer of my dream had a beautiful uniform like yours, a grand look, a sword; your name is Phœbus; 'tis a beautiful name. I love
