CHAPTER TWO

A week went by, and though the regime was much tighter, some of the usual merriment began to return. In short time the gypsies began to reappear, but only the bravest and most secure dared to venture around the city. One such gypsy was the puppeteer, Clopin. His cart appeared on the square one morning, much to the delight of the passersby, and the chagrin of the guard, and a show had begun by midmorning. The little children gathered on the ground for the show, though the parents stood nearby, seemingly poised to swoop up their young ones at any sign of trouble.

Moving through the crowd was a willowy figure shrouded in an inconspicuous brown dress and matching headdress, with an indiscernible veil pinned across her face to cover her mouth and nose. In wide-eyed wonder, Margot grinningly took in the reemerging color and activity in the square.

She knew she was in danger there, for Phoebus had a soiled reputation amongst the police and if she were found to be doing anything out of the ordinary, she, too, would be suspected as a revolutionary. The idea scared her, but it also frustrated her because she wasn't a revolutionary – she was only an overly sheltered child with no spine! Well, not today. Today, though disguised, she strode the streets of Paris and observed the aftermath of the riot for herself.

When she came upon the puppet show, she stopped and watched with increasing amusement. The puppeteer was obviously a Gypsy, and was a laugh a minute. He wore a purple mask over his eyes and nose and a multi-colored jester's garb. The children hung upon his every word with delight. When the show was finished, Margot applauded with the rest and hung back for a while to watch the crowd dissipate. She wanted to drink in every color and every fleeting smile while she could – she only had twenty more minutes until her father came home for lunch and she would have to be found sat by the fire reading or embroidering.

Clopin packed up his show, feeling satisfied. He was a performer at heart, he lived for the applause. When he came out of his cart to pick up the gold coins, a young boy approached him.

"Monsieur!" Said the boy, meekly. Clopin waited a moment in expectation, but the boy was tongue-tied. Clopin knelt down to the boy's level.

"Ahhh, a small reveler! Oh—what is that! There is something shiny in your ear!" With affectionate ease, Clopin produced one of the shiny gold pennies from the boy's ear. The boy grinned broadly in amazement.

"How did you do that!"

"Oh, a magician never reveals his tricks! Watch again, I think I see another one!" He repeated his trick. As he did this, slowly so that the boy could catch on, he glanced briefly out at the court and caught sight of the veiled figure. She was completely covered, but for her eyes, which were blue. She was watching him with mild curiosity. Suddenly, he saw a young Gypsy boy sneak up behind her and snatch something out of her purse, which hung down by her knee from a long braided strap. For a moment, he considered stopping the boy but she had beat him to it. Adeptly, she grabbed the back of the boy's collar, not roughly, and pulled him back.

"Hey!" Margot scolded as she yanked the Gypsy boy back. He looked afraid but also defensive. Instead of punishing him, however, she brought her head close to his and spoke.

"It is a terrible thing to steal. You could be taking someone's only treasure!" The boy looked slightly shamed.

"Now, give me back my pennies, please." Reluctantly, the boy dumped the few pennies into her outstretched hand. "There, you see? And, because you were so well behaved, a token of my gratitude." Smilingly, she placed two of the pennies into his chubby hands and closed them. The boy grinned gratefully and ran away. She stood back up.

Clopin observed all of this as he performed his trick.

"There! Now, with enough practice, young sorcerer, you, too, can pluck coins out of your friends' ears!" The little boy ran away with his prizes. Clopin, too, stood back up. What he had seen amazed him in a way. This woman was clearly not a Gypsy, and from her veil he discerned that she was either a holy woman or a disguised member of nobility, both of which were not on good terms with the Gypsy people at the moment. The woman continued on her way toward Notre Dame and stood for a while, watching the builders. Eventually, she entered the building. Clopin, impressed, smiled to himself and returned to prepare for his next show.