length Dea re-entered the women's apartment with Fibi and Vinos.
Ursus chained up Homo under the Green Box; Gwynplaine looked after the
horses, the lover becoming a groom, like a hero of Homer's or a paladin
of Charlemagne's. At midnight, all were asleep, except the wolf, who,
alive to his responsibility, now and then opened an eye. The next
morning they met again. They breakfasted together, generally on ham and
tea. Tea was introduced into England in 1678. Then Dea, after the
Spanish fashion, took a siesta, acting on the advice of Ursus, who
considered her delicate, and slept some hours, while Gwynplaine and
Ursus did all the little jobs of work, without and within, which their
wandering life made necessary. Gwynplaine rarely wandered away from the
Green Box, except on unfrequented roads and in solitary places. In
cities he went out only at night, disguised in a large, slouched hat, so
as not to exhibit his face in the street.

His face was to be seen uncovered only on the stage.

The Green Box had frequented cities but little. Gwynplaine at
twenty-four had never seen towns larger than the Cinque Ports. His
renown, however, was increasing. It began to rise above the populace,
and to percolate through higher ground. Amongst those who were fond of,
and ran after, strange foreign curiosities and prodigies, it was known
that there was somewhere in existence, leading a wandering life, now
here, now there, an extraordinary monster. They talked about him, they
sought him, they asked where he was. The laughing man was becoming
decidedly famous. A certain lustre was reflected on "Chaos Vanquished."

So much so, that, one day, Ursus, being ambitious, said,--

"We must go to London."

BOOK THE THIRD.

_THE BEGINNING OF THE FISSURE._

CHAPTER I.

THE TADCASTER INN.

At that period London had but one bridge--London Bridge, with houses
built upon it. This bridge united London to Southwark, a suburb which
was paved with flint pebbles taken from the Thames, divided into small
streets and alleys, like the City, with a great number of buildings,
houses, dwellings, and wooden huts jammed together, a pell-mell mixture
of combustible matter, amidst which fire might take its pleasure, as
1666 had proved. Southwark was then pronounced Soudric, it is now
pronounced Sousouorc, or near it; indeed, an excellent way of
pronouncing English names is not to pronounce them. Thus, for
Southampton, say Stpntn.

It was the tim