- Escaping, huh?- seagulls cry from afar. Odd spots Malchick running between horses’ legs, waves to the dwarf. The little fellow waves back, before disappearing in a coal cellar.

- Escaping, huh? - Judge is a big bearded bear of a man with a solemn scary baritone. He grabs the twins by their shoulders, pushing them inside the carriage.

- The circus is not a nice place to live in – Even admits, still out of breath when the coach begins to rattle on. 

- Not nice at all – Odd concurs dazed by the perfume of mildew and mint spreading from the judge’s robe.

- Circus? Well, you might call it that way too.

- But it's not our fault – the twins respond unison.

- Don't care who's fault it is! – Judge barks - Your grandfather’s profanity or one of your uncles killing a bishop’s cow. None of my business. I'm here to see the justice done. And if it requires that you board that ship, so be it!

Then, seeing that he scared them, Judge smiles benevolently:

- It's not an entirely unpleasant experience. Have you ever been on one?

- Ship? What ship? – the twins bob their heads like 

pigeons.

But before Judge can answer, the coach comes to a halt. A murmur forces its way in, followed by the smell of dead fish and bed shells, the moaning of the ropes. Judge’s mares neigh timidly. A man yells: 

- Judge, you're late! - the dock is crowded.

- Justice is slow but never late - Judge forces the twins out.

A sudden awe strikes the mob dumb. Dozens of hands draw crosses over chests before the hysteria spreads like a brushfire:

- God, save us! Rid us of this pestilence! Divide the sick from the wholesome, it is said! Away with the Devil’s offspring! – making Even and Odd bow as low as Barnabas had taught them. For fear means food and bows bring bread.

But there’s competition at the far end of the port. At the open bowels of a decrepit ship a group of frightened folk waits to board it. Each a monument to one’s own and a witness to each other’s misery fenced off by the rabble: dark, heavy expression of shame and dismay masking their faces.

- Your verdict! – the people demand, urging the Judge to produce a big red cap which ends up on his head giving him the appearance of an overweight poppy flower: