distress they watched Gwynplaine led away, and the mourning-coloured

garb and the iron staff of the wapentake.

The two girls were like petrifactions: they were in the attitude of

stalactites. Govicum, stunned, was looking open-mouthed out of a window.

The wapentake preceded Gwynplaine by a few steps, never turning round or

looking at him, in that icy ease which is given by the knowledge that

one is the law.

In death-like silence they both crossed the yard, went through the dark

taproom, and reached the street. A few passers-by had collected about

the inn door, and the justice of the quorum was there at the head of a

squad of police. The idlers, stupefied, and without breathing a word,

opened out and stood aside, with English discipline, at the sight of the

constable's staff. The wapentake moved off in the direction of the

narrow street then called the Little Strand, running by the Thames; and

Gwynplaine, with the justice of the quorum's men in ranks on each side,

like a double hedge, pale, without a motion except that of his steps,

wrapped in his cloak as in a shroud, was leaving the inn farther and

farther behind him as he followed the silent man, like a statue

following a spectre.

576

The Man Who Laughs