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Updated: June 7, 2025
Every one rushed to see him; no longer from Southwark only, but even from other parts of London. The general public began to mingle with the usual audience, which no longer consisted of sailors and drivers only; in the opinion of Master Nicless, who was well acquainted with crowds, there were in the crowd gentlemen and baronets disguised as common people.
He entered the inn. Govicum's bed, dimly visible in its nook, was there; but Govicum was not in it. If Govicum was not in his bed, it was evident that Nicless could not be in his. The whole house was dark. He felt in that shadowy interior the mysterious immobility of emptiness, and that vague fear which signifies "There is no one here."
The justice of the quorum forced his hat down on his head, crossed his hands on his stomach, which is the height of majesty, and added, "It is decided, Master Nicless; you are to be taken to prison, and put into jail, you and the boy; and this house, the Tadcaster Inn, is to remain shut up, condemned and closed. For the sake of example. Upon which, you will follow us." And Dea!
This observation was repeated by Master Nicless, and had such a run that it reached to Ursus through Fibi and Vinos. It put Ursus into a fever. Seditious words, lèse Majesté. He took Gwynplaine severely to task. "Watch over your abominable jaws. There is a rule for the great to do nothing; and a rule for the small to say nothing. The poor man has but one friend, silence.
This one looked ill-favoured enough to do so. Ursus bowed to him. Master Nicless was a good-hearted man enough, but a dreadful coward. Once terrified, he became a brute. The greatest cruelty is that inspired by fear. He growled out, "This simplifies matters."
Then he said to himself that it was late; that the tavern was shut up; that it was very natural; that every one was asleep; that he had only to awaken Nicless or Govicum; that he must go up to the inn and knock at the door. He did so, running no longer now, but rushing. He reached the inn, breathless.
The justice of the quorum sat down on a form, before a table. Barkilphedro took a chair. Ursus and Master Nicless remained standing. The police officers, left outside, grouped themselves in front of the closed door. The justice of the quorum fixed his eye, full of the law, upon Ursus. He said, "You have a wolf." Ursus answered, "Not exactly."
Master Nicless looked after him, and saw Ursus run, as fast as his old legs would allow, in the direction taken that morning by the wapentake who carried off Gwynplaine. A quarter of an hour afterwards, Ursus, out of breath, reached the little street in which stood the back wicket of the Southwark jail, which he had already watched so many hours.
Gwynplaine, thanks to his cloak and his hat, which nearly concealed his face, could not be recognized by the passers-by. Before he went out to follow Gwynplaine, Ursus took a precaution. He spoke to Master Nicless, to the boy Govicum, and to Fibi and Vinos, and insisted on their keeping absolute silence before Dea, who was ignorant of everything.
Two arrests, one after the other, made in his house first that of Gwynplaine, then that of Ursus might be injurious to the inn. Customers dislike police raids. Here then was a time for a respectful appeal, suppliant and generous. Master Nicless turned toward the justice of the quorum a smiling face, in which confidence was tempered by respect.
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