The next morning we went on to Reims, but I didn't look at the poet any more. Quasimodo still looked very exhausted; he was my only worry. I hoped that we would soon get to town to find a medicus there who could properly treat Quasimodo. It didn't take long, after 2 hours the city portal of Reims came into view. The silhouette of the city was made striking by the 2 towers of Reims Cathedral, which was much higher and more magnificent than Notre Dame de Paris. I ask the first citizen who came to meet us about the medicus. Thank God he wasn't far from his house and we were able to get him treated quickly. It was, as I had feared, the loss of blood had troubled Quasimodo. The medicus bandaged his wound more properly than we did and gave him a blood-building drink. The medicus thought it best to watch Quasimodo for a while. Since I knew that he was now in good hands, we left the doctor's house and promised to come back towards evening. Before I left, I asked the medicus about the former gypsy who had come to the city about 20 years ago. The medicus, who had to be around 50 years old, remembered Alfonso and explained the way to his house. Jasmine and I left the medicus with thanks. Outside the house, Gringoire sat with the goat.
"Oh, you are still there?", I said dryly, "I thought you made off."
"I'm not a monster. I also wanted to know how things are going with him.", Gringoire said irritably.
"Everything's fine. You can go," I said.
Jasmine just looked at me confused, but said nothing until the poet was out of earshot.
"What happened? Boy, he must have pissed you off..."she said then.
"He called Quasimodo a monster that nobody loves," I said angrily.
"Wow ... Then I hope we won't see him again.", Jasmin said with a shrug.
We walked across town for over half an hour until we found Alfonso's house. I took a deep breath and then knocked on his door.
A Mediterranean-looking gentleman in normal medieval clothing opened it for us.
"What do you want?" He asked.
"Are you Alfonso?" I asked.
"Yes. Who are you?" He asked.
After we introduced ourselves and explained our plans, Alfonso scratched his head thoughtfully: "Hmm ... the disfigured child ... It was given to me by a man in the inn. He had bright red hair and looked very hectic. He only spoke English, but I don't understand the language very well. He talked about his wife and the child. Perhaps she didn't want the child because of his appearance. Who knows? Who wants such a brood of devils? "
"He spoke English? So an Englishman?" I asked.
"No, there was a strange accent."
"An accent ... that could either speak for Ireland or Scotland," said Jasmin thoughtfully.
"He had red hair ... that I didn't think of it earlier!", I said, "Quasimodo also has red hair. And red hair is especially common in Scotland. At least at that time," I said and Jasmin nodded to me.
"Do you know the man's name?" Asked Jasmin Alfonso.
"Not that, but I saw him," said Alfonso.
"Is he still here?" I asked.
"Yes, they apparently settled here after the birth. He has been going to the cathedral every day since the cathedral burned down a year ago. Maybe he works there," said Alfonso.
"The cathedral was on fire?" I asked, startled.
Alfonso nodded: "Yes, about a year ago. Lightning struck the church and the roof was ablaze. It took days to put out the fire."
"Maybe he's a stonemason ... If so ... it seems somehow no longer a coincidence that Quasimodo became the bell ringer of Notre Dame de Paris.", I said and took Alfonso's hand: "Thank you from the bottom of my Heart! "
I shook his hand goodbye and then we hurried to the Notre Dame de Reims cathedral.
