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In this terrible situation, the archdeacon said not a word, uttered not a groan He merely writhed upon the spout, with incredible efforts to cliranite, his feet slid along the blackened ithout catching fast People who have ascended the towers of Notre-Dame know that there is a swell of the stone i angle that miserable archdeacon exhausted himself He had not to deal with a perpendicular wall, but with one which sloped away beneath him

Quasimodo had but to stretch out his hand in order to draw hiulf; but he did not even look at hiallows He was looking at the gypsy

The deaf , with his elbows on the balustrade, at the spot where the archdeacon had been a aze from the only object which existed for him in the world at that moment, he re, and a long stream of tears flowed in silence from that eye which, up to that time, had never shed but one tear

Meanwhile, the archdeacon was panting His bald broas dripping with perspiration, his nails were bleeding against the stones, his knees were flayed by the wall

He heard his cassock, which was caught on the spout, crack and rip at every jerk that he gave it To complete his misfortune, this spout ended in a leaden pipe which bent under the weight of his body The archdeacon felt this pipe slowly giving way The miserable man said to hiue, when his cassock should tear asunder, when the lead should give way, he would be obliged to fall, and terror seized upon his very vitals Now and then he glanced wildly at a sort of narrow shelf formed, ten feet lower down, by projections of the sculpture, and he prayed heaven, froht be allowed to finish his life, were it to last two centuries, on that space two feet square Once, he glanced below hiain had its eyes closed and its hair standing erect

There was sohtful in the silence of these two onized in this terrible fashion a few feet below hiazed at the Grève