CHAPTER IV.
URSUS PLAYS THE SPY ON THE POLICE.
AS we have already said, according to the very severe laws of those days, a summons to follow the wapentake, addressed to an individual, implied to all other persons present an order not to stir. Some curious idlers, however, were stubborn, and followed from afar off the cortége which had taken Gwynplaine into custody.
Ursus was one of the number. He had been petrified with astonishment, as one certainly had reason to be. But Ursus, so often assailed by the surprises incident to a wandering life, and by all sorts of mischances, was prepared for immediate action, like a ship-of-war, and could call to the post of danger the whole crew,—that is to say, the aid of all his faculties. He flung off his stupor, and began to think. He strove not to give way to emotion, but to meet the danger calmly and thoughtfully. To look facts in the face is the duty of every sensible person.
Presently he asked himself: What could he do? Gwynplaine being taken, Ursus was tortured by a twofold fear,—a fear for Gwynplaine, which instigated him to follow his protégé, and a fear for himself, which urged him to remain where he was. Ursus had the intrepidity of a fly, and the impassibility of a sensitive plant. His agitation was indescribable. Nevertheless, he heroically decided to brave the law, and to follow the wapentake,
