Master Nicless was happy. The magistrate, whom he had feared, had come to his aid. The police had acted as auxiliary to him, Nicless. They had delivered him from "such people." The means he had sought were brought to him. Ursus, whom he wanted to get rid of, was being driven away by the police, a superior authority. Nothing to object to. He was delighted. He interrupted,—
"Your honour, that man—"
He pointed to Ursus with his finger.
"That man wants to know how he is to leave England to-day. Nothing can be easier. There are night and day at anchor on the Thames, both on this and on the other side of London Bridge, vessels that sail to the Continent. They go from England to Denmark, to Holland, to Spain; not to France, on account of the war, but everywhere else. To-night several ships will sail, about one o'clock in the morning, which is the hour of high tide, and, amongst others, the Vograat of Rotterdam."
The justice of the quorum made a movement of his shoulder towards Ursus.
"Be it so. Leave by the first ship—by the Vograat."
"Your worship," said Ursus.
"Well?"
"Your worship, if I had, as formerly, only my little box on wheels, it might be done. A boat would contain that; but—"
"But what?"