A thrill of horror ran through the spectators. They fell back and shouted to the older people to come along. Fine! Everybody here was his own policeman. The two men from Namdal were nearby; they set about the Hungarian with their fists, picked him up, and hoisted him above their heads, shouting coarsely that he was just a big baby not yet breeched and they ought to chuck him in the sea. Well, the two men were too much for the Hungarian. He fought back for a while and tried to wriggle free, but then gave up and began to plead with them. The Namdalers were merciful; as they had so totally defeated him, they gave him a kick on the backside and let him slink away. They stood and watched him go, laughing. And then there was no end to their boasting. They should have made mincemeat of him and fed him to the chickens! The Namdalers now turned to the victim of the assault, expecting his thanks. He did not thank them. He stood sniveling and wiping his cheek.

“Have you ever seen such funny blood?” said the Namdalers to each other. “Just as though it had something blue in it.”

“It’s not blood,” said Edevart. “It’s something he smears on himself. I have seen these two before.”

“Isn’t it blood?”

“No. And he’s not blind, either,” said Edevart.

A voice in the crowd supported him. “No, he’s not blind. I have seen these two rogues up in Finmark. They played the same tricks then to get money out of us.”

The Namdalers walked over to the man and looked at him. “Aren’t you blind?” they asked.

The man sniffed and replied: “Yes, blind. Gewiss.”

One of the men took out a knife and thrust it near his face; the blind man flinched and drew back in terror. No, he didn’t survive the test. In great haste he began dismantling the barrel organ, intending to make his getaway. The Namdalers didn’t touch him; but they felt rather silly not doing anything about him, after getting mixed up in such a ridiculous affair, which in fact hadn’t been worth fighting about. They stood there embarrassed, thrusting their hands into their pockets and taking them out again. They had actually thought of throwing the wrong man into the sea!

“Away with you!” they commanded. “You are no more blind than we are.”

“Yes, I am,” mumbled the Armenian. “Almost blind, very blind.”

“Away with you, do you hear!”

And thus it was that their act was ruined. The Armenian and his companion vanished from the fair. They presumably made their way across the island of Hadsel to Melbo, playing at the various farms, putting on their performance and fiddling their way onward, a little step at a time.