tried to disturb "Chaos Vanquished;" made a cabal, hissed, scolded,

shouted! This was an excuse for Ursus to make out-of-door harangues to

the populace, and for his friend Tom-Jim-Jack to use his fists to

re-establish order. His pugilistic marks of friendship brought him still

more under the notice and regard of Ursus and Gwynplaine. At a distance,

however, for the group in the Green Box sufficed to themselves, and held

aloof from the rest of the world, and because Tom-Jim-Jack, this leader

of the mob, seemed a sort of supreme bully, without a tie, without a

friend; a smasher of windows, a manager of men, now here, now gone,

hail-fellow-well-met with every one, companion of none.

This raging envy against Gwynplaine did not give in for a few friendly

hits from Tom-Jim-Jack. The outcries having miscarried, the mountebanks

of Tarrinzeau Field fell back on a petition. They addressed to the

authorities. This is the usual course. Against an unpleasant success we

first try to stir up the crowd and then we petition the magistrate.

With the merry-andrews the reverends allied themselves. The Laughing Man

had inflicted a blow on the preachers. There were empty places not only

in the caravans, but in the churches. The congregations in the churches

of the five parishes in Southwark had dwindled away. People left before

the sermon to go to Gwynplaine. "Chaos Vanquished," the Green Box, the

Laughing Man, all the abominations of Baal, eclipsed the eloquence of

the pulpit. The voice crying in the desert, vox clamantis in deserto,

is discontented, and is prone to call for the aid of the authorities.

The clergy of the five parishes complained to the Bishop of London, who

complained to her Majesty.

497

The Man Who Laughs