Or Else Let Her Be Mine And Mine Alone

Quasimodo's Anguish

In the previous day's chaos of arresting and executing, Frollo had forgotten meeting Quasimodo. Or maybe he just didn't want to. With what had happened in the last few months, he actually preferred if the fool starved.

--

Quasimodo was in a perturbation of his own. It had been two days since the tumultuous battle of Notre-Dame, where he had poured molten lead from the belltower to fend off crowds wanting to hang Esmeralda. But after things calmed down a bit, he was hit with dismay to find her cell empty.

At dawn he saw her at the scaffold, and felt a wave of unceasing grief take over his soul. But then something happened. He didn't know what, but he saw her being taken away. He didn't know where.

To him she was the loveliest being in the world. In all twenty years of his life, she was the only one who hadn't considered him a monster. His heart was aching to see her again, to speak to her again. He knew that holding such feelings for somebody like her was wrong; his master Frollo had told him that. But he couldn't help it. He would have died for Frollo if it was anybody else. But she made him feel ordinary in a good way. She made him feel human. He wouldn't, couldn't let anyone cause a scratch to her.

--

Some hours post- daybreak, Frollo entered the belltower. Without saying a word to Quasimodo, he sat at the table, putting the food basket on it. Quasimodo saw that he hadn't brought books with him. This was a parley, not an educative session.

'Good morning, master', he said nonetheless, helping himself in the chair opposite Frollo. Frollo stared at him silently, then said, 'The whole of Paris was amazed by your devotion to the cathedral that night.'

Quasimodo tried not to smile. Sarcasm was a prelude to Frollo's rage.

'But I suspect that saving the cathedral wasn't your only motive,' he added.

'Master,' Quasimodo broke in, 'Do you know where she is? They didn't hang her yesterday, I saw that.'

'And what shall you do with it?'

'Please, master. I just want to know if she's safe.'

Frollo looked away from him, sighing heavily. 'She is in the dungeons.'

'But they are ghastly!' Quasimodo exclaimed.

'I spared her life alright, is that not enough? Besides, she won't be there forever. Only till this... commotion that the gypsies have caused settles down.'

'And then? You won't hurt her, right?'

Frollo looked at him disdainfully. The boy had gained nerve.

'Please don't hurt her,' Quasimodo repeated.

'It depends. Hopefully she will accept me as her savior and ask for forgiveness,' he said, getting up and making his way downstairs.

Quasimodo went after him. 'Master, will- ,' he paused. Frollo stopped to turn at him lazily. 'Will she stay here, with me?' he asked at last.

'No, idiot. She will stay with me. She has to, if she wants to live. And you can do nothing about it. So, spare yourself the pain and forget about her. Understood?' Frollo declared.

Quasimodo gaped. Of course. He knew that his master had...

'Understood, boy?' Frollo demanded.

'Y-yes, master.'

---

Frollo got off his horse and like a typical judge of the middle ages, geared up for a day of hunting gypsies and heretics. As soon as he went through the gate of the Palace of Justice, however, four guards surrounded him.

'It is good that you are here, sir'

'We all knew that only you could resolve this'

'I swear on Neptune's name that I haven't seen someone so insane!'

'Silence!' Frollo ordered. The guards immediately obeyed. 'Tell me what happened, clearly.'

One of them began, 'It is the hag we imprisoned yesterday, your honor. She's totally out of her mind and is getting out of control. She again and again demands to see the dancing girl. When we refuse, she starts yelling and scratching us. If you could spare a moment-'

'Fine!' said Frollo scornfully. 'Take me to her.'

--

Frollo had more important matters to heed to, but this would hopefully compel the guards to stop having so much fear for a woman. Still, he wondered what it was that Gudule wanted to tell him. Perhaps how huge of a liar he was to not kill the gypsy girl? But how could she know it.

When he entered the cell, she was taking a drink from the jug kept, perhaps to soothe her throat after all the screaming. When she saw him, however, something awakened in her. She immediately flung him back, howling, 'You monster! You despicable, sorry RAT of a human!'

Frollo was taken aback. Before he could gather himself, she grabbed his robe and began to shake him. He yelled, 'What on earth do you think you are doing!' The guards pulled her back with difficulty. 'Get this over with. What do you want?' Frollo inquired.

'My daughter, cockroach!' Gudule hit back.

'Your daughter? Shouldn't you go to the gypsies for that?'

'The gypsies?' She dropped on the floor, sobbing tears of fury. 'After fifteen years had God answered my prayers. I had my baby right in front of me, and you took her! Robbers!'

Frollo opened his mouth to say something, but stopped. Gradually, realization came over his face. 'Esmeralda? That gypsy girl is your daughter?'

Gudule just wailed, 'You murdered my daughter. Do not lie to me; I know what you did to her. I know all what you did and why you did.' She peculiarly looked at him when saying the last line.
Frollo looked her in the eye, a sense of unease gripping him. Her expression was enough to make him comprehend: Gudule did know everything. He tried to stiffen his demeanor.

'She is alive, I cancelled her execution at the final minute.'

Her face brightened.

'Take me to her!' she shrieked with joy.

'I can, this evening. If you do not hassle the guards, that is.'

'Oh, I shall do anything! Just let me see my Agnes.'