That night, I forced myself to stay awake until everyone else was asleep. I knew Clopin was in the Palace of Justice, and I needed to make sure he was okay.

Or at least not dead.

So, in the dead of night, I snuck out of my room in a black dress and traveling cloak, armed with my father's sword (don't ask me how no one woke up, I'm still not sure myself, and I did not steal the sword - I borrowed it without permission and no prospect of returning it). I crept into the Palace of Justice and found a guard that had fallen asleep. I knocked him to the ground, waking him up.

"Tell me where the gypsy Clopin is!" I demanded. I knew that since he was still groggy from sleeping, he wouldn't know who I was.

"Uh… over there… third door on the left…" he said, standing, then curling up in the chair again.

I smiled. "Thank you, monsieur."

As I took a set of keys, I heard him murmur, "Night, Mommy…"

I quickly unlocked the cell door and yanked it open. The inconveniently loud THUMP! Made Clopin's head fly up in fear and confusion.

I almost couldn't stand the sight of him. His hands and feet were chained to a wall, his face and clothes were already dirty as a rat, and the way he winced as he looked up told me he had already been whipped or something terrible like that.

"Marie! What are you doing here? It's dangerous!" he hissed.

"Yes, you would know wouldn't you?" I said. I ran over to him and took a look at his back. I was right - he was already bleeding from the wounds.

"Oh, God, what did they do to you?" I moaned, using a part of my cloak to wipe away the blood.

Clopin said grimly, "It could've been a lot worse."

I heard two pairs of footsteps walking down the corridor. They stopped at the door to Clopin's cell, still open. We heard their voices.

"See, Monsieur Cousteau - I toldja she was in here!"

"Thank you for informing me. You may go now."

The hellish light of the torch illuminated - who else? - the now-wide-awake guard I met earlier, and my father.

The guard handed Father the torch and walked away.

Father smiled evilly as he slowly meandered over to Clopin and I. He said, "I hope you two enjoy this night. It will be your last alive, gypsy."

Clopin's eyes widened in shock. I gasped.

Father continued. "It has been decided that tomorrow at dusk, Clopin Troulillefou will burn at stake for the crime of unholy sorcery. You do remember the 6th of January?"

"That was merely an exploding smoke ball and a trap door!" But even as Clopin was protesting, Father turned and left the cell.

We were silent for a second, stunned at this new fate that had befallen him. He looked brave, but I could see in his eyes the fear that lurked behind his courageous mask.

"Marie," Clopin whispered. "I think I know someone who can help."

"Quasimodo? Where are you?"

Yes. I had gone up to the bell tower of Notre Dame in the middle of the night. You would not believe how many steps there are, especially when you are in a hurry and quite tired already.

Finally, the bell-ringer stumbled out from a room, still half-asleep. He held up his hand for me to wait, then did a strange thing. He almost drunkenly walked to a stone basin filled with water and dunked his head in it. He flipped his head out of the water, sending water droplets in all directions, then said, "Okay, I'm awake… who are you?"

"My name is Marie."

"And, exactly what are you doing here?" he continued, still dripping wet.

I grimly smiled. "It's sort of a long story, but here it goes: Clopin Trouillifou and I became friends and Father hired him as children's entertainer then Clopin and I fell in love and Father made me marry Monsieur La Frenzo - not the bakerman's son - but I left him at the altar and Father arrested Clopin so now he's in the Palace of Justice and he's going to die tomorrow at sunset so we very desperately need you help. Did you get all that?"

Quasimodo blinked. "Wow… that is a long story. So, in a nutshell, Clopin's in trouble."

Oh my.

Did he just sum up our story in three words?

"Yes. And he needs your help, Quasimodo."

He looked away, seeming to think it over. Maybe he thought this was a practical joke. He turned back and said, "You and Clopin really fell in love, now?"

I nodded. "I'd do anything for him, and he's already proven he'd do anything for me."

Quasimodo smiled and said, "Alright… here's the plan: tomorrow night at sunset, just go to the burning like a spectator. Don't interfere. When it's safe and people think he's doomed, I'll swing down and grab him from the post. Only after I go back up, you run into the church, and make sure you claim sanctuary before you go in."

"Oh yes, because that worked so well with that gypsy girl." I said sarcastically. Normally, I'd be a lot more polite with new people, but this was a life-death situation, not a tea party.

"Frollo isn't alive anymore." he pointed out. But I still wasn't sure.

"I don't know… I can't lose him, Quasimodo."

He put his large hand on my shoulder encouragingly. "You won't, Marie."

I looked at him. Clopin was right - he really did have a heart of gold. The plan might work with Frollo out of the way not.

I nodded my head.