Gypsy Eye, Wolf Eye
by 2AddersFanged

2

The unexamined life is not worth living.
—Socrates

He would do everything alone this time, take no cohorts. He concocted a simple plan that would cause the gypsy girl to seemingly disappear from Paris, with no obvious suspects. Claude Frollo reviewed his plan for two weeks, not listening when others spoke to him of church matters, so intent was he on getting every detail right for Esmeralda’s abduction.

Claude Frollo knew of several slow-acting hypnotics which, after a few hours’ time, caused unconsciousness. He chose the one that had the lightest scent and taste. To test the drug to ensure it had no harmful, long-lasting effects, he himself took a larger dose than the one he planned to give Esmeralda. For a few hours he felt nothing, but by dinnertime, his body began to rebel against his wishes, and while reading at his desk, he melted into a deep sleep. The next afternoon he awoke with nothing more than a headache.

In order to combat his own anxiety during the abduction—stress might affect his movements and make him more obvious—Frollo also experimented with various potions used to induce relaxation. The feeling of being under the influence of a sedative was new and troubling to him. Once he took a dose of laudanum and spent the day wandering about Notre Dame in a stupor, giggling at nothing. He attracted unwanted attention, so remained in his study the rest of the day, riveted by the vision of Esmeralda dancing beneath his window. He was frightened by his powerful, drugged reaction to her. While he watched her twirling in the square, a feeling of such infinite yearning overtook him that he nearly marched down and lead Esmeralda up to his study in view of the entire town. This drug, Frollo concluded, would not be ideal for his use during the abduction, but it could perhaps be used to interesting effect upon his captive.

On the appointed day, Frollo would watch Esmeralda dance as usual, but halfway through her performance—before she began to sing, god help him—he’d slip out of Notre Dame and hurry towards her cottage. It would be easy to break in; the doors on the cottage were rickety, its one window low to the ground. He had spied on Esmeralda in her house before; he knew that she always enjoyed a cup of wine after dancing. She poured the wine from a jug she kept on a table in the middle of the room. Frollo would spike the wine with the hypnotic, and then return to the cathedral. In the late afternoon, when the sun was just turning russet, he would venture back to her cottage, dispense of the rest of the tainted wine, and carry the slumbering girl to Notre Dame.

Claude Frollo had observed that people rarely question what they see with their own eyes. He would wear civilian clothes and a hooded layman’s cape, and carry Esmeralda in a well-padded feed sack over his shoulder, without any great attempt to hide the burden from the few citizens likely to be out at dinner time. It would be safer to abduct her while the sun was just giving way to twilight, rather than in darkness; the sight of a hooded man carrying a large sack could raise suspicion if observed in the middle of the night. In late afternoon he would look to most people like a gentleman farmer returning home with a last-minute provision. One occasionally saw farmers driving their carts, full of grain, through the streets, or lone farmers carrying grain from the nearby mercantile. To test his theory, Frollo walked around Paris one afternoon, carrying a sack on his shoulder. No one gave him a second look

The most treacherous part of the endeavor would be removing Esmeralda without being seen by her folk in the gypsy camp. Luckily, he had discovered a rarely-used path through the woods that led to the back door of her cottage. The secrecy of this path was another good reason to set out while the sun was still in the sky. Gypsies were notoriously nocturnal; should he be discovered at night while roaming those hidden trails, he’d surely be accosted by the gypsy council.

After another week of drug experimentation, some days finding him barely able to get through his duties without raising suspicion, Claude Frollo decided upon the best medication and dosage to relax him. For one more week, he walked the town in his layman’s disguise, purchasing clothes, wine, and expensive candies for the gypsy. He knelt in his bedchamber on the evening before the appointed day and prayed for success. It thrilled him that Esmeralda would soon be so close, so touchable; yet when he pictured the golden time he would finally set her down in his study, he could not imagine what to say to her. His prayers echoed around the room. Horrified by what he was asking God to do, he rose abruptly and went to bed.