'Yes，yes，Dom Claude.Poor man！he will have suffered like Mummol.But what a thing to do—to visit the witches'Sabbath！—and he butler to the Court of Accounts，who must know Charlemagne's regulation：'stryga vel masca.'2As to the little girl—Smelarda，as they call her—I shall await your orders.Ah！as we pass through the door you will explain to me also the signification of that gardener painted on the wall just as you enter the church.Is that not the Sower？Hé！master，what are you thinking about？'
Dom Claude，fathoms deep in his own thoughts，was not listening to him.Charmolue，following the direction of his eyes，saw that they were fixed blankly on the spider's web which curtained the little window.At this moment a foolish fly，courting the March sunshine，threw itself against the net，and was caught fast.Warned by the shaking of his web，the enormous spider darted out of his central cell，and with one bound rushed upon the fly，promptly doubled it up，and with its horrible sucker began scooping out the victim's head.'Poor fly！'said the King's attorney，and lifted his hand to rescue it.The Archdeacon，as if starting out of his sleep，held back his arm with a convulsive clutch.
'M re Jacques，'he cried，'let fate have its way！'
M re Jacques turned round in alarm；he felt as if his arm were in an iron vice.The eye of the priest was fixed，haggard，glaring，and remained fascinated by the horrible scene between the spider and the fly.
'Ah，yes！'the priest went on，in a voice that seemed to issue from the depths of his being，'there is a symbol of the whole story.She flies，she is joyous，she has but just entered life；she courts the spring，the open air，freedom；yes，but she strikes against the fatal web—the spider darts out，the deadly spider！Hapless dancer！Poor，doomed fly！M re Jacques，let be—it is fate！Alas！Claude，thou art the spider.But Claude，thou art also the fly！Thou didst wing thy flight towards knowledge，the light，the sun.Thy one care was to reach the pure air，the broad beams of truth eternal；but in hastening towards the dazzling loophole which opens on another world—a world of brightness，of intelligence，of true knowledge—infatuated fly！insensate sage！thou didst not see the cunning spider's web，by destiny suspended between the light and thee；thou didst hurl thyself against it，poor fool，and now thou dost struggle with crushed head and mangled wings between the iron claws of Fate！M re Jacques，let the spider work its will！'
'I do assure you，'said Charmolue，who gazed at him in bewilderment，'that I will not touch it.But in pity，master，loose my arm；you have a grip of iron.'
The Archdeacon did not heed him.'Oh，madman！'he continued，without moving his eyes from the loophole.'And even if thou couldst have broken through that formidable web with thy midge's wings，thinkest thou to have attained the light！Alas！that glass beyond—that transparent obstacle，that wall of crystal harder than brass，the barrier between all our philosophy and the truth—how couldst thou have passed through that？Oh，vanity of human knowledge！how many sages have come fluttering from afar to dash their heads against thee！How many clashing systems buzz vainly about that everlasting barrier！'
He was silent.These last ideas，by calling off his thoughts from himself to science，appeared to have calmed him，and Jacques Charmolue completely restored him to a sense of reality by saying：'Come，master，when are you going to help me towards the making of gold？I long to succeed.'
The Archdeacon shrugged his shoulders with a bitter smile.
'M re Jacques，read Michael Psellus's Dialogus de Energia et Operatione Damonum.What we are doing is not quite innocent.'
'Speak lower，master！I have my doubts，'said Charmolue.'But one is forced to play the alchemist a little when one is but a poor attorney in the Ecclesiastical Court at thirty crowns tournois a year.Only let us speak low.'
At this moment a sound of chewing and crunching from the direction of the furnace struck on the apprehensive ear of M re Jacques.
'What is that？'he asked.
It was the scholar，who，very dull and cramped in his hiding-place，had just discovered a stale crust and a corner of mouldy cheese，and had without more ado set to work upon both by way of breakfast and amusement.As he was very hungry，he made a great noise，giving full play to his teeth at every mouthful，and thus aroused the alarm of the King's attorney.
'It is my cat，'the Archdeacon hastily replied；'she must have got hold of a mouse in there.'
This explanation entirely satisfied Charmolue.'True，master，'he said with an obsequious smile，'all great philosophers have some familiar animal.You know what Servius says：'Nullus enim locus sine genio est.''3
Meanwhile，Dom Claude，fearing some new freak of Jehan's，reminded his worthy disciple that they had the figures in the doorway to study together.They therefore quitted the cell，to the enormous relief of the scholar，who had begun to have serious fears that his chin would take root in his knees.
1 Naked and bound thou weighest a hundred pounds when hung up by the feet.
2 A witch or ghost.
3 There is no place without its quardian spirit.
Chapter 6-Of the Result of Launching a String of Seven Oaths in a Public Square
'Te Deum laudamus！'exclaimed Master Jehan，crawling out of his hole；'the two old owls have gone at last.Och！och！Hax！pax！max！—fleas！—mad dogs！—the devil！I've had enough of their conversation.My head hums like a belfry.And mouldy cheese into the bargain！Well，cheer up！let's be off with the big brother's purse and convert all these coins into bottles.'
