“What a good turn they did you there, my boy!” said Ursus.

This “fortune” had allowed Ursus, who was the administrator of Gwynplaine’s success, to have the chariot of his dreams constructed—­that is to say, a caravan large enough to carry a theatre, and to sow science and art in the highways.  Moreover, Ursus had been able to add to the group composed of himself, Homo, Gwynplaine, and Dea, two horses and two women, who were the goddesses of the troupe, as we have just said, and its servants.  A mythological frontispiece was, in those days, of service to a caravan of mountebanks.

“We are a wandering temple,” said Ursus.

These two gipsies, picked up by the philosopher from amongst the vagabondage of cities and suburbs, were ugly and young, and were called, by order of Ursus, the one Phoebe, and the other Venus.

For these read Fibi and Vinos, that we may conform to English pronunciation.

Phoebe cooked; Venus scrubbed the temple.

Moreover, on days of performance they dressed Dea.

Mountebanks have their public life as well as princes, and on these occasions Dea was arrayed, like Fibi and Vinos, in a Florentine petticoat of flowered stuff, and a woman’s jacket without sleeves, leaving the arms bare.  Ursus and Gwynplaine wore men’s jackets, and, like sailors on board a man-of-war, great loose trousers.  Gwynplaine had, besides, for his work and for his feats of strength, round his neck and over his shoulders, an esclavine of leather.  He took charge of the horses.  Ursus and Homo took charge of each other.

Dea, being used to the Green Box, came and went in the interior of the wheeled house, with almost as much ease and certainty as those who saw.

The eye which could penetrate within this structure and its internal arrangements might have perceived in a corner, fastened to the planks, and immovable on its four wheels, the old hut of Ursus, placed on half-pay, allowed to rust, and from thenceforth dispensed the labour of rolling as Ursus was relieved from the labour of drawing it.

This hut, in a corner at the back, to the right of the door, served as bedchamber and dressing-room to Ursus and Gwynplaine.  It now contained two beds.  In the opposite corner was the kitchen.

The arrangement of a vessel was not more precise and concise than that of the interior of the Green Box.  Everything within it was in its place—­arranged, foreseen, and intended.

The caravan was divided into three compartments, partitioned from each other.  These communicated by open spaces without doors.  A piece of stuff fell over them, and answered the purpose of concealment.  The compartment behind belonged to the men, the compartment in front to the women; the compartment in the middle, separating the two sexes, was the stage.  The instruments of the orchestra and the properties were kept in the kitchen.  A loft under the arch of the roof contained the scenes, and on opening a trap-door lamps appeared, producing wonders of light.