Was it the fault of ventriloquism? Certainly not. He had succeeded in deceiving Fibi and Vinos, who had eyes, although he had not deceived Dea, who was blind. It was because Fibi and Vinos saw with their eyes, while Dea saw with her heart. He could not utter a word. He thought to himself, Bos in lingûa. The troubled man has an ox on his tongue.
In his complex emotions, humiliation was the first which dawned on him. Ursus, driven out of his last resource, pondered.
“I lavish my onomatopies in vain.” Then, like every dreamer, he reviled himself. “What a frightful failure! I wore myself out in a pure loss of imitative harmony. But what is to be done next?”
He looked at Dea. She was silent, and grew paler every moment, as she stood perfectly motionless. Her sightless eyes remained fixed in depths of thought.
Fortunately, something happened. Ursus saw Master Nicless in the yard, with a candle in his hand, beckoning to him.
Master Nicless had not assisted at the end of the phantom comedy played by Ursus. Some one had happened to knock at the door of the inn. Master Nicless had gone to open it. There had been two knocks, and twice Master Nicless had disappeared. Ursus, absorbed by his hundred-voiced monologue, had not observed his absence.
On the mute call of Master Nicless, Ursus descended.
He approached the tavern-keeper. Ursus put his finger on his lips. 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.
The tavern-keeper pushed the door behind him, and shut it in the face of the inquisitive Govicum.
Master Nicless placed the candle on the table.
A low whispering dialogue began.
“Master Ursus?”
“Master Nicless?”
“I understand at last.”
“Nonsense!”
“You wished the poor blind girl to think that all going on as usual.”
“There is no law against my being a ventriloquist.”
“You are a clever fellow.”
“No.”
“It is wonderful how you manage all that you wish to do.”
“I tell you it is not.”
“Now, I have something to tell you.”
“Is it about politics?”
“I don’t know.”
“Because in that case I could not listen to you.”
“Look here: whilst you were playing actors and audience by yourself, some one knocked at the door of the tavern.”
“Some one knocked at the door?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t like that.”
“Nor I, either.”
“And then?”
“And then I opened it.”
“Who was it that knocked?”
“Some one who spoke to me.”
“What did he say?”
“I listened to him.”
“What did you answer?”
“Nothing. I came back to see you play.”
“And--?”
“Some one knocked a second time.”
“Who? the same person?”
“No, another.”
“Some one else to speak to you?”
“Some one who said nothing.”
“I like that better.”
“I do not.”
“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. Just now you solved my enigma, and now I cannot understand yours.”
“The proprietor of the circus commissioned me to tell you that he had seen the cortège of police pass this morning, and that he, the proprietor of the circus, wishing to prove that he is your friend, offers to buy of you, for fifty pounds, ready money, your caravan, the Green Box, your two horses, your trumpets, with the women that blow them, your play, with the blind girl who sings in it, your wolf, and yourself.”
Ursus smiled a haughty smile.
“Innkeeper, tell the proprietor of the circus that Gwynplaine is coming back.”
The innkeeper took something from a chair in the darkness, and turning towards Ursus with both arms raised, dangled from one hand a cloak, and from the other a leather esclavine, a felt hat, and a jacket.
And Master Nicless said, “The man who knocked the second time was connected with the police; he came in and left without saying a word, and brought these things.”
Ursus recognized the esclavine, the jacket, the hat, and the cloak of Gwynplaine.
