united. There errant
life had not hindered education. "To wander is to grow," Ursus said.
Gwynplaine was evidently made to exhibit at fairs. Ursus had cultivated
in him feats of dexterity, and had encrusted him as much as possible
with all he himself possessed of science and wisdom.

Ursus, contemplating the perplexing mask of Gwynplaine's face, often
growled,--

"He has begun well." It was for this reason that he had perfected him
with every ornament of philosophy and wisdom.

He repeated constantly to Gwynplaine,--

"Be a philosopher. To be wise is to be invulnerable. You see what I am,
I have never shed a tears. This is the result of my wisdom. Do you think
that occasion for tears has been wanting, had I felt disposed to weep?"

Ursus, in one of his monologues in the hearing of the wolf, said,--

"I have taught Gwynplaine everything, Latin included. I have taught Dea
nothing, music included."

He had taught them both to sing. He had himself a pretty talent for
playing on the oaten reed, a little flute of that period. He played on
it agreeably, as also on the _chiffonie_, a sort of beggar's
hurdy-gurdy, mentioned in the Chronicle of Bertrand Duguesclin as the
"truant instrument," which started the symphony. These instruments
attracted the crowd. Ursus would show them the chiffonie, and say, "It
is called organistrum in Latin."

He had taught Dea and Gwynplaine to sing, according to the method of
Orpheus and of Egide Binchois. Frequently he interrupted the lessons
with cries of enthusiasm, such as "Orpheus, musician of Greece!
Binchois, musician of Picardy!"

These branches of careful culture did not occupy the children so as to
prevent their adoring each other. They had mingled their hearts together
as they grew up, as two saplings planted near mingle their branches as
they become trees.

"No matter," said Ursus. "I will marry them."

Then he grumbled to himself,--

"They are quite tiresome with their love."

The past--their little past, at least--had no existence for Dea and
Gwynplaine. They knew only what Ursus had told them of it. They called
Ursus father. The only remembrance which Gwynplaine had of his infancy
was as of a passage of demons over his cradle. He had an impression of
having been trodden in the darkness under deformed feet. Was this
intentional or not? He was ignorant on this point. That which he
remembered clearly and to the slightest detail were his tragical
adventures when deserte