LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXII, Issue 2083, 27 October 1880, Page 3

LITERATURE.

I o THE STRANGE LOVE OB' A “ STAR , ACT3ES3. [Abridged from the “ Theatre.”]) C Continued.) When the Widow Melnotte led me on i Act IV. X blushed with pleasure through m i rouge to see that Lara had returned. H i sat as before, but with folded arms, an those mystical eyes of his followed me, an i me only, wherever I moved. Presently i began to wonder whether my idol mean ! ever to break up that very noble pos< i unfold hia arms, and join in the applaue i which was now being lavishly accorded t i us. ‘ Perhaps,’ I thought, ‘he is royal, am sure he looks it; or, at least, too great man to clap his hands. ’ As I declaimed 1 Sir, leave this house ; it is humble ; but husband’s roof is, in the sight of God ani man, the temple of a wife’s honour,’ I dura not look at him, for it mus: have spoiled th situation ; but I listened for him all th same, and felt certain he did not applaud When I did look, a moment after, he was s exactly in the same position tnat I couh have sworn he had not moved. The call a the end of Act I V. is Claud’s presumptive property ; but as I was the ‘ star,’ my stage lover came to fetch me, that we might tabi it together, I. however, declined. Thi fact was, I could not bear to run the risk o Lara making no sign. When the curtail again rose he was gone, I mean, utterly he himself, bouquet, opera-glasses—all hat vanished. It was some slight consolatioi that I was playing a scene of the utmosl dejection and misery. I fancy I nevei played It better. I had insisted on th< management putting np a farce to conclndi with, that the people might sit quiet to the end of the drama. This bad the result oi procuring me a hearty call from the few pre sent, and judge my surprise and delight when just as I was leaving the narrow space before the pulled-back curtains on the O. P, side, and making a final bow, what should come tumbling at my feet from the depths ol my Lara’s still apparently empty box but the identical bouquet for which I had been sighing all the evening. Naturally, I was not looking in that direction at the time, but when I did so I only saw the door close hurriedly at the back of the box. I hastened to my dressing-room, breathless with anxiety to examine my treasure; bat. oh! the meanness ! The valuable old lace had been removed, and a common stamped paper now enveloped these really choice flowers. *He never did'this 1’ I exclaimed mentally ; * he has deputed some valet or some menial of the theatre to throw me these flowers, and they have stolen the lace. My Lara is no miser.’ 1 ransacked the trophy for a letter, a line, a card—even spoiling the flowers considerably thereby—but in vain. No ; it did not contain a word. The piece for the nest night was 4 Leah,’ and I wondered with painful interest whether she would indeed prove ‘ the forsaken.’ There was a rehearsal, of course, which Mr Rowe conducted in person. It may have been fancy, but he seemed to me to avoid anything like private conversation with me.

“The performance that evening was nnder the patronage of tho colonel and officers of the dragoon guards then quartered at Flnshington. They filled the two large boxes, and overflowed slightly into the stalls. None of the box people of the previous night were present, hnd he—should I ne’er behold him more.

For the Wednesday we put up ‘The Hunchback,’ and Mr Manager Howe did me the honor to play Master Walter. He told me that Thursday was always so bad a night that wo might as well do a repeat. Tho bills therefore announced that by special desire the ‘ Lady of Lyons ’ would be repeated, owing to my great success as Pauline. The miserable fraud failed to lure more than a mere handful of people, save again to the private boxes, where, to my bewilderment, 1 recognised all my old friends of the opening night—the aged solitary, the family in affliction, the lady with the arm, and my great unknown. I at once felt there was something uncanny, not to say magical, in this simnl taneous and, so to speak, symmetrical reappearance.

When we were all in the garden scene, and Monsieur Deschappelles has just made his first speech, a sky-piece close to the proscenium suddenly caught fire from one of tho head lights on the extreme left, and, quickly burning through at the end on that side, fell, all in flames, upon the stage in front of ns, and began to burn upwards with great fury, fanned as it was, too, by the draught which always prevails upon a stage. There was nothing like a panic, however. We felt that at the worst we had only to make our exit by the stage-door, which was just at the back of us, in our costumes ; and the audience knew, I suppose, that on such an occasion there is safety in small numbers Still, all showed great excitement, screaming and shouting “ Fire,” &0., and everyone in the house at least starting to their feet—except the occupants of the dress boxes! The men in the flies, who always had a dozen pails of water at hand in case of an emergency, rushed to the corner from which the skypiece hung just before the flames reached it, and deluging both the burning fragments and the stage below, never gave the fire a chance. Now, although few, if any, had time to observe aught but the flames while they lasted, the stupendous imperturbability of those aristocrats during the alarm could not fail to strike everyone as soon as the danger was removed. Though the rest of the audienoe was small it was evidently impressionable, and throughout the remainder of the performance 1 had the unpleasant feeling that no one was attending to me. There was much ill suppressed talk, especially in the pit, which the episode of the fire would barely account for, and more than once some low fellow, bolder than the rest, shouted out an ejaculation which seemed to be addressed to the boxes.

My Lara, however, remained impassible. Again a bouquet in front of him, which, though inferior both in size and quality to that of the first night, was wrapped in what seemed to me the identical piece of old point which I had mentally accused some menial of purloining. As before, he left the theatre between the fourth and fifth acts, without returning, nor did anyone throw me the bouquet, which lay on the front cushion to the end.

Friday, if any, was tho fashionable night in Flushington. The best townspeople reserved themselves for that evening by common consent, and now and then a county family would come in from their neighboring seats.

But the weather was warm, the time of year bad, and things had not been looking up so far. I expected a twelve or fourteen pound bouse at the ontside. In order to reach Ihe stage door it was necessary to pass in front of the theatre. I generally indulged in a shilling’s worth of dignity in the shape of a fly, both going and coming, though when fine I far prefer walking. As I drove in sight of the front entrance of the theatre, which looks on one of the widest streets in the town, I was surprised to find a crowd which literally blocked my way. There was no election going on. Could it be a riot ? I never dreamt these many hundreds of people were coming to sea * Borneo and Juliet.’ However, I soon discovered that the Theatre .Royal, Flnshington, was undoubtedly their goal. I pulled down the blinds, though the crowd was unusually quiet and orderly for a crowd, and soon found myself safely deposited at the stage door. The first person I came upon was Mr Horseoollar, the low comedian, ready dressed for Phil flicker, in his own farce, ‘The Loves of a i amplighter. ’ ‘ Evenin’, Miss Aster. Hera’s a go. They’ve twigged ’em.’ ‘I beg your pardon.” This with celestial dignity. ‘ Well, yon ask the gnvnor, that’s all. I’m sworn to muteness; but of course the murder's out. tia I ha! ha !’ And hero came that wonderful stage laugh of his, upon which hq lives and supports a wife and family. ‘Well, our guv’ is a wonder, and no mistake,' he simmr red on, * and it’s my religious persuasion that he’d fill a house on an uninhabited Island.” The overture was now nearly over. • Beginners J’ shouted the call boy on the stain, {To be continue^