GRINGOIRE HAS SEVERAL GOOD IDEAS IN
SUCCESSION IN THE RUE DES BERNARDINS
ONCE Pierre Gringoire had seen how this affair was turning out and that there would definitely be rope, hanging, and sundry other bits of unpleasantness for the main actors in this play, he no longer cared to be mixed up in it. The truands, with whom he had remained, judging that in the last analysis they offered the best company in Paris, the truands had continued to take an interest in the gypsy girl. He had found that quite natural on the part of people who, like her, had no prospect other than Charmolue and Torterue, and who did not ride like him in the realm of the imagination between Pegasus' two wings. He had learned from their remarks that his bride of the broken pitcher had found refuge in Notre-Dame, and he was very glad she had. But he was not even tempted to go and see her there. He sometimes thought of the little goat, and that was all. For the rest, by day he performed feats of strength for a living, and at night he was working on a paper against the Bishop of Paris, for he remembered being soaked by the bishop's mill-wheels, and still bore him a grudge. He was also busy writing a commentary on the fine work of Baudry the Red, Bishop of Noyon and Tournai, De cupa petrarum [On Stonecutting], which had filled him with a violent enthusiasm for architecture; an interest which had replaced in his heart his passion for hermeticism, of which it was in any case merely the natural corollary, since there is a close link between hermetics and masonry. Gringoire had passed from the love of an idea to love of the form of that idea.
One day he had stopped near Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois, at the corner of a house called le For-l'Evêque, which stood