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"Master Ursus," cried the innkeeper, "come; their honours desire to speak to you." Master Nicless, in his endeavour to soften matters down, let slip, although he would gladly have omitted, this plural, "their honours" respectful to the group, but mortifying, perhaps, to the chief, confounded therein, to some degree, with his subordinates.
Nicless was much afraid of the first of these persons, the justice of the quorum. Had he been of the court, he would have feared the other most, because it was Barkilphedro. One of the subordinates knocked at the door again violently. The innkeeper, with great drops of perspiration on his brow, from anxiety, opened it.
Master Nicless put his finger on his lips. The two looked at each other thus. Each seemed to say to the other, "We will talk, but we will hold our tongues." The tavern-keeper silently opened the door of the lower room of the tavern. Master Nicless entered. Ursus entered. There was no one there except these two. On the side looking on the street both doors and window-shutters were closed.
Ursus was perhaps unreasonably alarmed about the indiscreet remark, and the consequences likely to result from the unconsidered words of Gwynplaine. Master Nicless, who had heard them, had no interest in compromising the poor inhabitants of the Green Box. He was amassing, at the same time as the Laughing Man, a nice little fortune. "Chaos Vanquished" had succeeded in two ways.
With the back of his hand he knocked against the window gently. Nothing stirred. He knocked louder twice. Still nothing stirred. Then, feeling somewhat uneasy, he went to the door of the inn and knocked. No one answered. He reflected, and began to feel a cold shudder come over him. "Master Nicless is old, children sleep soundly, and old men heavily. Courage! louder!"
Master Nicless perceived at the door a body of police, from the head of which two men detached themselves, one of whom was the justice of the quorum. Master Nicless had seen the justice of the quorum that morning, and recognized him. He did not know the other, who was a fat gentleman, with a waxen-coloured face, a fashionable wig, and a travelling cloak.
Master Nicless told the story of all the magnificence, of the white skin with the blue veins, the neck, the shoulders, the arms, the touch of paint everywhere, the pearl earrings, the head-dress powdered with gold; the profusion of stones, the rubies, the diamonds. "Less brilliant than her eyes," murmured Ursus. Gwynplaine said nothing. Dea listened.
He called Nicless, Govicum, Fibi, Vinos, Ursus, Homo. He tried every shout and every sound against this wall. At times he waited and listened; but the house remained mute and dead. Then, exasperated, he began again with blows, shouts, and repeated knockings, re-echoed all around. It might have been thunder trying to awake the grave.
"Explain yourself, Master Nicless." "Guess who called the first time." "I have no leisure to be an Oedipus." "It was the proprietor of the circus." "Over the way?" "Over the way." "Whence comes all that fearful noise. Well?" "Well, Master Ursus, he makes you a proposal." "A proposal?" "A proposal." "Why?" "Because " "You have an advantage over me, Master Nicless.
One evening Ursus was in the side scene, which was the kitchen-door of the Green Box, seeing Master Nicless standing by him, showed him this man in the crowd, and asked him, "Do you know that man?" "Of course I do." "Who is he?" "A sailor." "What is his name?" said Gwynplaine, interrupting. "Tom-Jim-Jack," replied the inn-keeper.
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