CHAPTER II.
SOLOMON NÔTREDAME.
A little later that night, at the hour which saw the showman pay his second visit to the street before the Chariot d'Or , there to stand gaping at the lighted windows, and peering into the courtyard in a kind of fascination--or perhaps to assure himself that the house would not fly away, and his golden hopes with it--the twelve-year-old boy, the basis of those hopes, awoke and stirred restlessly in the straw. He was cold, and the chain galled him. His face ached where the man had struck him. In the next stall two drunken men were fighting, and the place reeked with oaths and foulness. But none of these things were so novel as to keep the boy awake; and sighing and drawing the monkey nearer to him, he would in a moment have been asleep again if th
