"Well!" said the king's advocate roughly, "he is dying. Are you satisfied?"
The unhappy girl fell back on her criminal's seat, speechless, tearless, white as a wax figure.
The president bent down to a man at his feet, who wore a gold cap and a black gown, a chain on his neck and a wand in his hand.
"Bailiff, bring in the second accused."
All eyes turned towards a small door, which opened, and, to the great agitation of Gringoire, gave passage to a pretty goat with horns and hoofs of gold. The elegant beast halted for a moment on the threshold, stretching out its neck as though, perched on the summit of a rock, it had before its eyes an immense horizon. Suddenly it caught sight of the gypsy girl, and leaping over the table and the head of a clerk, in two bounds, it was at her knees; then it rolled gracefully on its mistress's feet, soliciting a word or a caress ; but the accused remained motionless, and poor Djali himself obtained not a glance.
"Eh, why—'tis my villanous beast," said old Falourdel, "I recognize the two perfectly!"
Jacques Charmolue interfered.
"If the gentlemen please, we will proceed to the examination of the goat." He was, in fact, the second criminal. Nothing more simple in those days than a suit of sorcery instituted against an animal. We find, among others in the accounts of the provost's office for 1466, a curious detail concerning the expenses of the trial of Gillet-Soulart and his sow, "executed for their demerits," at Corbeil. Everything is there, the cost of the pens in which to place the sow, the five hundred bundles of brushwood purchased at the port of Morsant, the three pints of wine and the bread, the last repast of the victim fraternally shared by the executioner, down to the eleven days of guard and food for the sow, at eight deniers parisis each. Sometimes, they went even further than animals. The capitularies of Charlemagne and of Louis le Débonnaire impose severe penalties on fiery phantoms which presume to appear in the air.
