“Confound the Falls! And what became of the circus?”
“Well, they made a bad business of it; got into debt on all sides, for oil, and forage, and printing placards, and so on, and then they beat a sudden retreat one night, and slipped off, all but two, and, indeed, they were about the best of the company; but somehow they lost their way in the forest, and instead of coming up with their companions, found themselves at daybreak at the outside of the town.”
“And these two unlucky ones, what were they?”
“One was the chief clown, sir, a German, and the other was a little girl, a Moor they call her; but the cleverest creature to ride or throw somersaults through hoops of the whole of them.”
“And how do they live now?”
“Very hardly, I believe, sir; and but for Tintefleck,—that's what they call her,—they might starve; but she goes about with her guitar through the cafés of an evening, and as she has a sweet voice, she picks up a few batzen. But the maire, I hear, won't permit this any longer, and says that as they have no passport or papers of any kind, they must be sent over the frontier as vagabonds.”
“Let that maire be brought before me,” said I, with a haughty indignation. “Let me tell him in a few brief words what I think of his heartless cruelty—But no, I was forgetting,—I am here incog. Be careful, my good man, that you do not mention what I have so inadvertently dropped; remember that I am nobody here; I am Number Five and nothing more. Send the unfortunate creatures, however, here, and let me interrogate them. They can be easily found, I suppose?”
“In a moment, sir. They were in the Platz just when I served the pheasant.”
“What name does the man bear?”
“I never heard a name for him. Amongst the company he was called Vaterchen, as he was the oldest of them all; and, indeed, they seemed all very fond of him.”