Negligence:

ESMERALDA could not sleep the entire night. She was frantically looking at the door throughout the whole evening in fear that the minister might come every moment and finish what he had started in the kitchen. After he had left her, half naked with torn dress in the middle of the disordered room, the servants started to clean up as soon as they snapped out from the shocking view. Corrine had escorted the gypsy upstairs and Esmeralda immediately changed with her white night gown. Except the green dress, which the servant had given her, the gypsy had another one; the expensive red and black dress, which the minister had bought for her, but the girl preferred rather to stay only with a night gown than to dress his "generous gift." There was something in that dress that disgusted her- the way that Frollo had stared at her with such strong libidinous passion, when she wore it, was something that she wished never to experience again. However, after the maid had examined her former green dress she said to the gypsy that it was doubtful that it could be fixed. Esmeralda dully apologized for returning the servant's clothe so torn up, but they both knew that it was not her fault. Nevertheless, Corrine gently offered her another of her dresses (even though she did not have actually so many), but Esmeralda simply refused. She did not wished her misery to spread further and now when the maid was her only friend left she did not want to cause her any trouble. Not long after that the servant left the girl alone, scared and anxious for the night.

Eventually, Esmeralda had fallen asleep after midnight, but that did not last for long. She woke up early in the morning and was numbly circling around the room, looking through the window, and pointlessly trying to open the locked door. It was Saturday, and it was usually the part of the week that the minister spent mostly in his house. Before her pregnancy happened, he had been always spending this day with her, doing with her things that she tried really hard to forget. The recent Saturdays, however, were different. Since the week that she was too weak to do anything at all, but to lay in her bed, and the following ones when she was pretending still to feel pain, Frollo had given her a separate from his room and had left her undisturbed, as he was usually occupying himself with work. But with the yesterdays events it was highly doubtful that this week would be one of those.

The gypsy was circling nervously the middle of the room. She knew that her "vacation" time was over and her humiliation would start again, but one thought was constantly returning in her mind, giving her some doomed hope… Why Frollo did not just ravish her yesterday? What had stopped him? Was it possible his conscious to have awakened? Was he feeling bad for her misery? No, that was impossible- man like him lived exactly on this pleasure of torturing and killing everything around them. But still, Esmeralda could not explain the mercy that he had given her yesterday. Suddenly she heard a key entering the lock of the door. Her blood in the veins froze, as her heart beat increased, and she stopped breathing in panic. She knew that it was him. She turned to the window, but then changed her mind and faced the door again. She could not run anymore, and surely she hated to be the girl that conformed to his wishes. Whatever was awaiting her, the gypsy decided to face with confidence, as the one that she always believed she had, before she met him.

The door opened and the minister entered, directly piercing his eyes at her. He looked more rest from yesterday, but he still appeared very intimidating to the girl. He was as usually wearing his judicial gown and had his hat in his hand. Her eyes met his, which made her immediately to look down the floor. With his emerging her confidence had seized, however not fear made her direct her eyes down, but something else… He made a few steps in the room, intensively moving his eyes all over her. The awkward silence in the room made the gypsy feel more uncomfortable than ever before in his presence. The minister had stopped advancing to her, leaving still a fair number of steps between them, as now for the gypsy it seemed as the whole world had stilled in that suspensive moment.

"You are still with your night dress," Frollo stated with his usual cold, low voice, still not putting his eyes off her.

His voice made her shiver, as she looked at him for a second, and then automatically looked back down to what she was wearing as if she had forgotten. She put her arms around her, suddenly feeling too exposed before him. She nodded barely, as her eyes were fixed on the floor.

"Yes, I am," she confirmed quietly.

"Why," he asked, not changing the intonation of his tone.

Esmeralda backed up a few steps from him. This time she dared to look at him in the eyes for long enough so to answer him without trembling.

"Because I do not have anything else to wear. You ripped beyond reparation the dress, which I had yesterday," she said boldly, resisting the urge to huddle miserably on the floor and to wait for him to crash her. Frollo's eyes, which were just a moment ago coldly staring at her, narrowed with hatred.

"And yet, you stand here untouched," he drawled unmoved, but with spiteful note in his tone. He moved a few more steps towards her. "How long do you really believe that this would go on?"

Esmeralda did not answer. She looked towards the floor again. The minister continued staring at her.

"Do you fear me," he asked with the same unchanged coldness. She did not answer again. "Or do you fear what I am about to do to you?"

The gypsy remained wordless, but she lifted her head, looking at him at the same time with panic and confusion. He smirked pleasurably, as he made a few more steps towards her. The girl automatically backed up; stumbling over her own steps and barely managing to stay stand. The minister had stopped advancing to her, as there were still a few steps between them, and he observed with cold expression her clumsiness.

"Calm yourself down," Frollo drawled unmoved, "I do not intend to repeat the last night's …event." Esmeralda looked at him doubtfully. His eyes slid all over her body again and he smirked, adding: "At least not with the dress- this things can be quite expensive. Due to your stubbornness, now I ought to give additional amount of money to my own servant in order to compensate her dress," he said unmoved, piercing straight at her eyes. "You know, it would have been so much easier if you wore the dress, which I have given you."

Esmeralda was still wordlessly looking at him. However, a thought in her mind was constantly distracting her from what she referred to as "her present problem."

"Why did you stop yesterday," she heard herself finally saying out loudly, as she suddenly made the minister silenced.

"Would you rather me to have continued," he asked spitefully after a pause.

The gypsy did not answer; she directed her eyes again to the floor. She regretted for even asking, but that thought was troubling her constantly since yesterday. She heard as the minister sighed heavily, and walked a few steps away from her, facing the door. He passed his fingers across his eyebrow, as if to chase away some idea that haunted him. After a pause he turned again towards her.

"I knew that you were insincere to me, Esmeralda; I could see it in your eyes, you are not as good fraud as you think you are. Nevertheless, I left you at peace these weeks, since all that you have been through…," Frollo started, trying to sound as formal and cold as he could. "And is this your gratitude for the kindness that I gave you- more lies and screams? I tried to make you feel as comfortable as you could here, what else could you possibly want from me?"

"What else," the gypsy asked angrily, "what do you mean "what else?" You have given me nothing, but misery and pain. "What else" can I want? I want my friends, my life, and you out of it!"

Frollo narrowed his eyes, looking at her spitefully.

"Forget you not who are you talking to, gypsy," he drawled viciously. "If my memory does not mislead me, you made a deal with me, have you forgotten it so soon?- I freed you and your "friends" from the certain death, which awaited all of you, in exchange you had to give yourself to me. As far as I know I held to my part of the bargain, but you persistently continue not to do yours. What makes you so certain your so called "friends" have not already forgotten you, and that you still have a life out there? Can't you just for once prove not to be a fraud and hold to the promise that you made to me?"

Esmeralda's eyes were sparking from the tears that burnt to get out of them. She turned away from him, advancing and staring through the window. Outside was calm and peaceful. Suddenly an urge to join the life out there hit her, but immediately she felt heavy weight to feel up her chest. Since the moment she was trapped in this house, she constantly wanted to leave it, but suddenly she felt too much shame and despair to go outside and to be part of what she remembered as a happy society. Her body froze as her thoughts started drifting chaotically. She could hear the lively conversations from the streets, the playing and happy kids, the tambourines, and the bells of the cathedral. She listened numbly their ringing sounds, sinking more and more in the tones they produced.

"You never asked for him," the freezing voice of the minister snapped her out of her trance. He had come again closer to her, as now he was just few steps away from her.

"What," she asked still confused, as she turned abruptly to him.

"You always bothered me with questions for the gypsies and the captain, but you never asked for him. Not even once, and he constantly asks for you," Frollo said with unmoved, cold voice, observing how the guilt suddenly hit her. Her green eyes enlarged, as a tear slid along her cheek.

"Quasimodo," she whispered, "I completely forgot about him." She closed her eyes overwhelmed with remorse and shame. After all that he had done for her, Esmeralda had forgotten him. She forgot to ask for his freedom, for his life, when she had so readily exchange her happiness for people, which had not even bother to ask for her.

"Yes, you forgot him," the minister confirmed unmoved, but with note of pleasure in his voice. "And the poor, miserable boy, he actually thinks that you… well, care for him."

"Is he alright," the gypsy asked, lifting her guilty eyes towards the minister. Frollo looked at them coldly.

"Yes," he said after a pause, observing the relief on the face of the girl. "He is in the bell tower as always."

There were a few more tears sliding along the cheeks of the gypsy, as she suddenly burst into cry. She turned again to the window, not wanting Frollo to be a witness of her misery. She tried to calm down, wiping her tears with her hands, but they continued spilling relentlessly. The words of the minister, the reminding of Quasimodo, and the fact that she had not think of him all this time, made her feel selfish, cruel and uncaring. She had constantly argued with the judge about her friends, but as she had never thought of him she felt as if she had betrayed him. All this had suddenly overwhelmed her. She had calmed down after a while, as now all that pain seemed to have turned inside her, making her feel incredible weight in her chest.

"I shall take you to see him, as long as you put on something different from your night gown," Frollo said with the same cold intonation, trying to sound as formal as he could. He had observed her unmoved as she was sobbing miserably, but somehow he felt her pain laying on him.

Esmeralda's cries suddenly seized, and she turned her big, green and wet eyes towards the minister. He expected to see suspicious and distrust in them, but instead they were full with innocent hope.

"Thank you," she said with sincerity that the judge had never heard from her before. He observed her for a while, as if wanting this moment to last forever, than he said, while he was still piercing at her coldly:

"Don't thank me just yet; I shall want something in return."

Esmeralda's hope had disappeared from her eyes, and she stared at the floor numbly.

"I believe that this "trip" would remind you for our deal, and after that you will be more willing of fulfilling your part of it, will you not," Frollo asked, sounding more like a command than an actual question.

Esmeralda remained silent for a moment, but after a pause she lifted her eyes confidently toward the minister.

"I understand. Can I see him now?"

Frollo smirked victoriously as he nodded in confirmation.

THE WAY seemed rather fast and short to the gypsy, who had never before tried to go to the cathedral by carriage. She had changed in the red and black dress, which Frollo had given her, and which she had not worn more than once before. They traveled in silence, and even before the carriage had reached the gates of Notre Dame, the minister was already regretting for all that. It was still early in the morning; there were still too many people in and around the cathedral; and variety of opportunities, which the gypsy could use to escape. And even if she did not, the judge seriously worried what the people might say if they see him with a gypsy and even worse- if they recognized her. Nevertheless, they had already reached the cathedral, and it was unlikely for Frollo to give up when he had reached so far. After all, the gypsy would owe him a lot after that, and that was what was constantly in the minister's mind.

Before he opened the door of the carriage, Frollo gave a cloak to the gypsy and commanded her to put it on, as she covers her hair and face as well. She obeyed without objecting. They moved quickly inside the church, where the minister bowed respectfully at the entrance and crossed himself. He took the arm of the gypsy and hastily started to pull her to the stairs. However, the minister's hope not to come across anyone, which could know him, proved a failure.

"Minister Frollo, it is a pleasant surprise to see you here," an old woman addressed him, as she drew both the attention of the judge and the gypsy. She seemed in her early sixties, as the intonation in her voice, her clothes and the way she moved; all suggested that she was a wealthy and noble lady.

"Indeed, Madame Aloïsede Gondelaurier, but the pleasure is entirely mine," the minister replied in a courteous fashion, concealing well the irritation of being stopped just now.

Esmeralda stood numbly next to Frollo, who was still firmly holding her arm. As soon as the woman had approached him, he had pushed the gypsy a little bit behind him. From there, Esmeralda observed in silence how they exchanged complimentary words, which was the custom in those days among the upper classes. However her mind was far from there- she thought of what she would say to Quasimodo when she saw him, and how she could possibly apologies for her negligence to him.

"Certainly, Madame, you sound quite busy yourself, and I truly do not wish to obtain more of your precious time," the gypsy overheard the minister saying after he seemed to have considerately listened the detailed explanations of the woman for something that Esmeralda had not paid attention to hear. He stepped a step backwards, pushing the girl as well, as he wished to withdraw from his current conversation.

"But please, minister, for such a pleasant surprise I could always spare a few minutes," Madame Gondelaurier objected politely. "After all that you have done for my family it was the least that I could do. It is quite upsetting, though, to see the absence of such a devoted Catholic as yourself, missing the honoring of Our Lady so often, because of the peasants' riots. But please tell me, dear minister, should I be worried?"

"But of course not, Madame Gondelaurier, you would see yourself that in a week everything shall be in its natural order. The only thing that should concern you now is the preparing of the joyful day, which awaits your family," Frollo said still with courteous words, but his patience seemed to fade more and more in every second. He made another step backwards, in attempt to put an end of the conversation.

"Indeed, it would be quite a celebration tomorrow. But, minister, you have still not answered to the invitation; please tell me that you would attend the wedding," Madame Gondelaurier said, as if not noticing his irritation, and making the minister stop for a third time. However, this time he smiled pleasantly, and for the gypsy appeared as if for the first time he was sounding sincere in that conversation:

"Indeed, my dear Madame, it would be equal to a sin not to attend such a blessed union. Please forgive my unintended negligence; I should have answered to the invitation as soon as the marriage was announced. Of course I would do my best to attend your daughter's wedding."

"Oh, minister, that would be such an honor…." The noble woman started, but this time the judge did not give her chance to continue her talking:

"But I beg you now to excuse me, Madame," he said politely, but with impatience.

"Most certainly, how impolite of me to hold you from your duties," the woman said quickly, seeing the minister leaving.

"Yes, indeed," the minister murmured angrily to himself, as he pulled roughly the gypsy to follow him to the stairs. She followed him obediently as they climbed the stairs; and she felt her heartbeat increase significantly.

"…BUT I am telling you, guys, really I don't have the time for that…" the gentle, but somehow exhausted voice of the hunchback was heard stronger and stronger, as the gypsy and the minister had finally climbed the stairs.

Esmeralda's heartbeat had increased, feeling for the first time for so long excitement and hope. Even hearing the familiar voice of a friend had made her feel better. However, a weight in her chest was also reminding her for her guilt.

"…It just feels like a lost of time to carve wooden figures of people that prefer never to see me… I need a hobby? What are you talking about, I have the bells…" Quasimodo's voice continued to be heard somewhere in the distance as Frollo opened the door, entering first and after that pulling the gypsy close to him. "… No, no, no, I don't just stare the square in hopes to see her; I know that she's gone… Yes, I did see him, but I can't just march downstairs and ask if he had..."

It took a few seconds for the new comers to realize that Quasimodo was nowhere to be seen. His voice seemed to be coming from the second floor, where the bells were and practically where he lived. The gypsy trembled, not able to speak or even to move from where she was standing, as if suddenly the hunchback had turned to be a symbol of all her friends, hopes and dreams, which were before forbidden and taken from her. Next to her, she heard as the minister sighed in irritation, and passed his fingers through his eyebrow, as if to remove a terrible headache.

"I hate when he talks to his stones," he murmured irritably mostly to himself, then he pronounced with loud voice the name of the hunchback, making his monologue suddenly cease. He jumped down, as if from nowhere, and he stumblingly appeared before the minister and the gypsy who thanks to the cloak, in which she was wrapped in, the hunchback could hardly tell that it was her.

"Oh, master… I did not expect you here," Quasimodo stuttered confused, as his attention was entirely caught up by the other concealed in the cloak person.

"Of course you did not," the minister drawled irritated, as he turned towards the gypsy. "Due to the riots the cathedral is surrounded with soldiers, in order to prevent criminals using the Blessed Virgin as their shield before the law. Nevertheless, they are instructed to kill any gypsy, which tries to get in or out," he glanced back to the confused hunchback, as he added, "including the ones that are climbing around the cathedral." Frollo turned again to the still covered in the cloak Esmeralda, "I believe that this would be enough to prevent you from trying any pointless escapes, but even if it is not, remember that any tries of fleeing will jeopardize the well being of all left gypsies in this city."

After that Frollo did not bother to look or explain anything to the hunchback. He just warned the gypsy that he would be back at noon, and then he took a key from his pocket, left the room, locking it from outside. A silence came in the room. Esmeralda thought that her heartbeat would break her chest any minute from all that bitter joy, which had suddenly overwhelmed her. She was still unable to move, as she observed with already wet eyes her forgotten friend. He was just about to say something, as she found strengths to pull the cloak from her face, and stilled, trembling in her place. The face of Quasimodo suddenly shined with happiness, as he exclaimed with cheerful joy her name and hugged her dearly. After he did that the gypsy exhaled heavily, as if finally freeing herself from all that misery that she carried in her. She responded to his hug, as her arms embraced him, and she let her tears from both joy and sadness spill freely across her cheeks.

"Esmeralda," the hunchback repeated after a while, as they had finally broke the embrace, "but how… I mean I don't understand… the master told me that you have gone with the other gypsies… I mean he did not say that exactly, he barely speaks for you; he just said that you were alive, but I could not see you again… I figured that you have left the city," Quasimodo looked sadly to the floor, "that you have left me…"

The gypsy listened to him silently, as her eyes seemed not able to get rid of the wet, blurring tears in them. She sighed heavily.

"Oh, Quasimodo, can you forgive me," she cried out, exhaustedly dropping on her knees.

"To forgive you… what are you talking about, Esmeralda," the bell-ringer asked gently in confusion, as he kneeled next to her.

"I am sorry, Quasi; you're still locked in here because of me… I should have insisted for your freedom when I agreed…" the gypsy murmured weakly, staring at the floor, and not able to face him.

"When you agreed to what, Esmeralda," the hunchback asked in incomprehension. "Esmeralda," he repeated, hoping to snap her out of her trance, "what have happened to you?"

Quasimodo took her soothingly by the hand, in hope to see that he was still her friend. The gypsy dared to look at him, but then turned her eyes back to the floor. His gentle, naïve expression made her unsure of what exactly to say to him.

"I… I was not out of the city," she started uncertain, still fixed her gaze down, "I mean… the day the Court of the Miracles was found and they captured us… they would have killed all of us, Quasi… because of me. I could not let that happened…" she stopped not able to continue.

"But then you repented and the master let you and everybody else to go free… well, at least outside the city gates, right," the hunchback asked naively, not understanding the sorrow of the gypsy. She looked at him, as her eyes were still wet.

"He freed my people from the dungeons, but not because I repented… that wouldn't have had any significance…"

"Then what happened, Esmeralda?"

"I… I agreed to stay with him in exchange of the freedom of my people and Phoebus," she replied blankly.

"To stay with him in exchange of…" Quasimodo started to repeat if wanting to make sense of her words, but he was interrupted by her:

"I am sorry, I truly am… please forgive me, I should have asked for you freedom too," she cried out, as a tear slid her face.

"No, no," he interrupted her on his turn, "that's not what I meant, Esmeralda. I mean who you agreed to stay with? I don't understand you…"

Esmeralda's eyes were still lifted at the ones of the hunchback, as her lips mechanically pronounced with great shame in her voice:

"Frollo, I agreed to stay with…"

"But why," Quasimodo asked naïvely, as if refusing to accept the meaning of her words, "what he could want from…"

The hunchback stopped suddenly, as he saw the shame and sorrow in the gypsy's eyes. He involuntary dropped her hand, and she looked down the floor, unable to watch the disappointment in his face.

"But, but… he couldn't," the bell-ringer stuttered, not knowing what to say or understand anymore, "… I mean he is… and you are…"

He stopped again, seeing that his words were bringing her more pain and embarrassment. For a moment the room was utterly silent, as the gypsy felt with shame the stare of the hunchback on her. She felt dirtier than ever. However, Quasimodo seemed to have snapped out of his shock, and he again determinedly held her hand, which made her green eyes look back at him.

"We should get you out of here. You can escape him, Esmeralda," he said confidently, as he pulled her gently to stand up and follow him. However, she did not move.

"No, Quasimodo, you don't understand," the gypsy objected miserably. "He would find me, he always does. And he would slaughter all the gypsies between me and him. I cannot be again responsible for the misery of my people. They may be out of the city or on the streets, they may be fighting and rebelling, but at least now they have chance, choice. If I escape everybody would die without any reason or blame. I cannot do that… He would kill Phoebus as well; he is still in the army…"

Quasimodo sighed heavily, and let her arm go for a second time. He sat near her, as he was as well looking towards the floor now.

"I am sorry," Esmeralda started after a pause, "I neglected you… I forgot to free you, could you ever forgive me?"

"Of course I can, Esmeralda," the hunchback replied immediately. "I mean, there's nothing you have done wrong, I was not really arrested or in the dungeons. After they caught us, they chained me in the bell tower… I would have done anything to help you, but then I saw that they let you free and said you have repented…. I was just happy that everything was over, and after my master came to me he said that everybody was alive and well and I should better return to my daily duties…"

"I am sorry," was all that the gypsy was able to say, after she had listened to him carefully.

"You shouldn't," Quasimodo replied comfortingly. "After all Notre Dame is my home, where else would I have gone if I was to be free," he smiled tenderly and let the gypsy rest her head on his shoulder. "And despite," he added after a pause, "from here I can see everything that I need to know for the city… I saw the riots, the soldiers and the gypsies, who seem to get more and more on the streets... I even saw Phoebus…"

"What," Esmeralda suddenly said with hope and live in her voice, which the hunchback had not heard from her before. "You have seen him! Tell me, where is he, please I need to know."

"I am sorry, Esmeralda, but it was more than a month ago," Quasimodo started softly, hating the fact that he was causing her disappointment, "… I wanted to talk to him, but he was dressed like a soldier and he was guarding with the rest of them the cathedral… I was not really sure what to say to him… And then one day he was just gone. For all that I know he could be on the other side of the city now… I am sorry…"

Esmeralda bent her head hopelessly again, letting a heavy sigh left her chest.

BEFORE the noon had come, the gypsy and the bell-ringer had the chance to discuss more what they knew about the riots, the captain and the situation in the city after the Court of Miracles had been discovered. They both seemed to share the feeling of limitation, which their prisons provided, but still they succeeded to expand their knowledge about the matters in the city. Esmeralda asked Quasimodo in details about his days and what exactly he was doing the past weeks. He, on his turn, tried as much as he could to make her feel good and to cheer her up from her misery. He did not ask her anything more about how her days passed, as he did not wished to bring her more sorrow and he was not entirely sure if he wanted to know this stuff at all. In that matter the time passed, and the noon came faster than they both wished for.

Frollo opened the door exactly after the bells had rung for announcing the midday. He found the gypsy before him with her head miserably bent aside. The hunchback was just coming down from upstairs, as she barely turned and mumbled something like a "goodbye," as a tear slid across her cheek and fell down the wooden floor. After all it seemed as the minister had achieved what he wanted from that visit- Esmeralda had realized better than ever that she needed to keep her part of the deal if she wanted him to keep his. She walked numbly outside the room, as both the eyes of the judge and the hunchback were fixed on her. Quasimodo sighed heavily as the door was closed, and he was left again only with the company of his friends. It seemed as if only now he truly wondered if the gypsy had really neglected him.

FOR a surprise of Esmeralda, the minister stopped her sharply as she directed downstairs. Instead he took her arm and started to drag her even upper the stairs.

"Where are we going," she asked in confusion, slightly resisting him.

He looked at her, but did not give her any answer. After they have climbed a floor upper, on the top of the tower, Frollo led her to a door of probably the only room there. It seemed an old and locked wooden door, as the minister hastily took a key and unlocked it. As he opened it the gypsy was able to see the inside of the room. It was rather empty; however the stone walls had many unrecognizable symbols on them. There was a wooden bed, not much above the floor, which had a rather old matrix with worn up sheets. Esmeralda looked the minister disbelievingly, who entered the room and turned to her.

"My patience has reached its limit," he drawled with fire in his eyes, as he pulled the gypsy inside the room and locked the door.