The priest and Godefroid then crossed a wide courtyard, at the farther
end of which loomed darkly a tall house flanked by a square tower
which rose above the roof, and appeared to be in a dilapidated
condition. Whoever knows the history of Paris, knows that the soil
before and around the cathedral has been so raised that there is not a
vestige now of the twelve steps which formerly led up to it. To-day
the base of the columns of the porch is on a level with the pavement;
consequently what was once the ground-floor of the house of which we
speak is now its cellar. A portico, reached by a few steps, leads to
the entrance of the tower, in which a spiral stairway winds up round a
central shaft carved with a grape-vine. This style, which recalls the
stairways of Louis XII. at the chateau of Blois, dates from the
fourteenth century. Struck by these and other evidences of antiquity,
Godefroid could not help saying, with a smile, to the priest: "This
tower is not of yesterday."

"It sustained, they say, an assault of the Normans, and probably
formed part of the first palace of the kings of Paris; but, according
to actual tradition, it was certainly the dwelling of the famous Canon
Fulbert, the uncle of Heloise."

As he ended these words, the priest opened the door of the apartment
which appeared now to be the ground-floor of the house, but was in
reality towards both the front and back courtyard (for there was a
small interior court) on the first floor.

In the antechamber a maid-servant, wearing a cambric cap with fluted
frills for its sole decoration, was knitting by the light of a little
lamp. She stuck her needles into her hair, held her work in her hand,