CHAPTER XIV. THE FêTE.

ientandapprehensive,Irecommencedtherehearsalofmypartmerelytokilltime.JustasIwasconcluding,thelong-delayedrattleofthekeyinthelockcametomyear—nounwelcomesound.M.Paul(IcouldjustseethroughtheduskthatitwasM.Paul,forlightenoughstilllingeredtoshowthevelvetblacknessofhisclose-shornhead,andthesallowivoryofhisbrow)lookedin. “Brava!”criedhe,holdingthedooropenandremainingatthethreshold.“J’aitoutentendu.C’estassezbien.Encore!” AmomentIhesitated. “Encore!”saidhesternly.“Etpointdegrimaces!Abaslatimidité!” AgainIwentthroughthepart,butnothalfsowellasIhadspokenitalone. “Enfin,ellesait,”saidhe,halfdissatisfied,“andonecannotbefastidiousorexactingunderthecircumstances.”Thenheadded,“Youmayyethavetwentyminutesforpreparation:aurevoir!”Andhewasgoing. “Monsieur,”Icalledout,takingcourage. “Ehbien!Qu’est-cequec’est,Mademoiselle?” “J’aibienfaim.” “Comment,vousavezfaim!Etlacollation?” “Iknownothingaboutit.Ihavenotseenit,shutuphere.” “Ah!C’estvrai,”criedhe. Inamomentmythronewasabdicated,theatticevacuatedaninverserepetitionoftheimpetuswhichhadbroughtmeupintotheattic,instantlytookmedown—down—downtotheverykitchen.IthoughtIshouldhavegonetothecellar.Thecookwasimperativelyorderedtoproducefood,andI,asimperatively,wascommandedtoeat.Tomygreatjoythisfoodwaslimitedtocoffeeandcake:Ihadfearedwineandsweets,whichIdidnotlike.HowheguessedthatIshouldlikeapetitpatéàlacrêmeIcannottellbuthewentoutandprocuredmeonefromsomequarter.WithconsiderablewillingnessIateanddrank,keepingthepetitpatétillthelast,asabonnebouche.M.Paulsuperintendedmyrepast,andalmostforceduponmemorethanIcouldswallow. “Alabonneheure,”hecried,whenIsignifiedthatIreallycouldtakenomore,and,withupliftedhands,imploredtobesparedtheadditionalrollonwhichhehadjustspreadbutter.“YouwillsetmedownasaspeciesoftyrantandBluebeard,starvingwomeninagarretwhereas,afterall,Iamnosuchthing.Now,Mademoiselle,doyoufeelcourageandstrengthtoappear?” Isaid,IthoughtIdidthough,intruth,Iwasperfectlyconfused,andcouldhardlytellhowIfelt:butthislittlemanwasoftheorderofbeingswhomustnotbeopposed,unlessyoupossessedanall-dominantforcesufficienttocrushhimatonce. “Comethen,”saidhe,offeringhishand. Igavehimmine,andhesetoffwitharapidwalk,whichobligedmetorunathissideinordertokeeppace.Inthecarréhestoppedamoment:itwaslitwithlargelampsthewidedoorsoftheclasseswereopen,andsoweretheequallywidegarden-doorsorange-treesintubs,andtallflowersinpots,ornamentedtheseportalsoneachsidegroupsofladiesandgentlemeninevening-dressstoodandwalkedamongsttheflowers.Within,thelongvistaoftheschool-roomspresentedathronging,undulating,murmuring,waving,streamingmultitude,allrose,andblue,andhalftranslucentwhite.Therewerelustresburningoverheadfarofftherewasastage,asolemngreencurtain,arowoffootlights. “Nest-cepasquec’estbeau?”demandedmycompanion. Ishouldhavesaiditwas,butmyheartgotupintomythroat.M.Pauldiscoveredthis,andgavemeaside-scowlandalittleshakeformypains. “Iwilldomybest,butIwishitwasover,”saidIthenIasked:“Arewetowalkthroughthatcrowd?” “Bynomeans:Imanagemattersbetter:wepassthroughthegarden—here.” Inaninstantwewereoutofdoors:thecool,calmnightrevivedmesomewhat.Itwasmoonless,butthereflexfromthemanyglowingwindowslitthecourtbrightly,andeventhealleys—dimly.Heavenwascloudless,andgrandwiththequiverofitslivingfires.HowsoftarethenightsoftheContinent!Howbland,balmy,safe!Nosea-fognochillingdamp:mistlessasnoon,andfreshasmorning. Havingcrossedcourtandgarden,wereachedtheglassdoorofthefirstclasse.Itstoodopen,likeallotherdoorsthatnightwepassed,andthenIwasusheredintoasmallcabinet,dividingthefirstclassefromthegrandsalle.Thiscabinetdazzledme,itwassofulloflight:itdeafenedme,itwasclamorouswithvoices:itstifledme,itwassohot,choking,thronged. “Del’ordre!Dusilence!”criedM.Paul.“Isthischaos?”,hedemandedandtherewasahush.Withadozenwords,andasmanygestures,heturnedouthalfthepersonspresent,andobligedtheremnanttofallintorank.Thoseleftwereallincostume:theyweretheperformers,andthiswasthegreen-room.M.Paulintroducedme.Allstaredandsometittered.Itwasasurprise:theyhadnotexpectedtheEnglishwomanwouldplayinavaudeville.GinevraFanshawe,beautifullydressedforherpart,andlookingfascinatinglypretty,turnedonmeapairofeyesasroundasbeads.Inthehighestspirit,unperturbedbyfearorbashfulness,delightedindeedatthethoughtofshiningoffbeforehundreds—myentranceseemedtotransfixherwithamazementinthemidstofherjoy.Shewouldhaveexclaimed,butM.Paulheldherandalltherestincheck. Havingsurveyedandcriticizedthewholetroop,heturnedtome. “You,too,mustbedressedforyourpart.” “Dressed—dressedlikeaman!”exclaimedZélieSt.Pierre,dartingforwardsaddingwithofficiousness,“Iwilldresshermyself.” Tobedressedlikeamandidnotplease,andwouldnotsuitme.Ihadconsentedtotakeaman’snameandpartastohisdress—haltelà!No.Iwouldkeepmyowndress,comewhatmight.M.Paulmightstorm,mightrage:Iwouldkeepmyowndress.Isaidso,withavoiceasresoluteinintent,asitwaslow,andperhapsunsteadyinutterance. Hedidnotimmediatelystormorrage,asIfullythoughthewouldhestoodsilent.ButZélieagaininterposed. “Shewillmakeacapitalpetit-maitre.Herearethegarments,all—allcomplete:somewhattoolarge,but—Iwillarrangeallthat.Come,chèreamie—belleAnglaise!” Andshesneered,forIwasnot“belle.”Sheseizedmyhand,shewasdrawingmeaway.M.Paulstoodimpassable—neutral. “Youmustnotresist,”pursuedSt.Pierre—forresistIdid.“Youwillspoilall,destroythemirthofthepiece,theenjoymentofthecompany,sacrificeeverythingtoyouramour-propre.Thiswouldbetoobad—monsieurwillneverpermitthis?” Shesoughthiseye.Iwatched,likewise,foraglance.Hegaveherone,andthenhegavemeone.“Stop!”hesaidslowly,arrestingSt.Pierre,whocontinuedhereffortstodragmeafterher.Everybodyawaitedthedecision.Hewasnotangry,notirritatedIperceivedthat,andtookheart. “Youdonotliketheseclothes?”heasked,pointingtothemasculinevestments. “Idon’tobjecttosomeofthem,butIwon’thavethemall.” “Howmustitbe,then?Howacceptaman’spart,andgoonthestagedressedasawoman?Thisisanamateuraffair,itistrue—avaudevilledepensionnatcertainmodificationsImightsanction,yetsomethingyoumusthavetoannounceyouasofthenoblersex.” “AndIwill,Monsieurbutitmustbearrangedinmyownway:nobodymustmeddlethethingsmustnotbeforceduponme.Justletmedressmyself.” Monsieur,withoutanotherword,tookthecostumefromSt.Pierre,gaveittome,andpermittedmetopassintothedressing-room.Oncealone,Igrewcalm,andcollectedlywenttowork.Retainingmywoman’sgarbwithouttheslightestretrenchment,Imerelyassumed,inaddition,alittlevest,acollar,andcravat,andapalet?tofsmalldimensionsthewholebeingthecostumeofabrotherofoneofthepupils.Havingloosenedmyhairoutofitsbraids,madeupthelongback-hairclose,andbrushedthefronthairtooneside,Itookmyhatandglovesinmyhandandcameout.M.Paulwaswaiting,andsoweretheothers.Helookedatme.“Thatmaypassinapensionnat,”hepronounced.Thenadded,notunkindly,“Courage,monami!Unpeudesangfroid—unpeud’aplomb,M.Lucien,ettoutirabien.” St.Pierresneeredagain,inhercoldsnakymanner. Iwasirritable,becauseexcited,andIcouldnothelpturninguponherandsaying,thatifshewerenotaladyandIagentleman,Ishouldfeeldisposedtocallherout. “Aftertheplay,aftertheplay,”saidM.Paul.“Iwillthendividemypairofpistolsbetweenyou,andwewillsettlethedisputeaccordingtoform:itwillonlybetheoldquarrelofFranceandEngland.” Butnowthemomentapproachedfortheperformancetocommence.M.Paul,settingusbeforehim,haranguedusbriefly,likeageneraladdressingsoldiersabouttocharge.Idon’tknowwhathesaid,exceptthatherecommendedeachtopenetrateherselfwithasenseofherpersonalinsignificance.GodknowsIthoughtthisadvicesuperfluousforsomeofus.Abelltinkled.Iandtwomorewereusheredontothestage.Thebelltinkledagain.Ihadtospeaktheveryfirstwords. “Donotlookatthecrowd,northinkofit,”whisperedM.Paulinmyear.“Imagineyourselfinthegarret,actingtotherats.” Hevanished.Thecurtaindrewup—shrivelledtotheceiling:thebrightlights,thelongroom,thegaythrong,burstuponus.Ithoughtoftheblack-beetles,theoldboxes,theworm-eatenbureau.IsaidmysaybadlybutIsaidit.Thatfirstspeechwasthedifficultyitrevealedtomethisfact,thatitwasnotthecrowdIfearedsomuchasmyownvoice.Foreignersandstrangers,thecrowdwerenothingtome.NordidIthinkofthem.Whenmytongueoncegotfree,andmyvoicetookitstruepitch,andfounditsnaturaltone,IthoughtofnothingbutthepersonageIrepresented—andofM.Paul,whowaslistening,watching,promptingintheside-scenes. By-and-by,feelingtherightpowercome—thespringdemandedgushandriseinwardly—Ibecamesufficientlycomposedtonoticemyfellow-actors.SomeofthemplayedverywellespeciallyGinevraFanshawe,whohadtocoquettebetweentwosuitors,andmanagedadmirably:infactshewasinherelement.Iobservedthatsheonceortwicethrewacertainmarkedfondnessandpointedpartialityintohermannertowardsme—thefop.Withsuchemphasisandanimationdidshefavourme,suchglancesdidshedartoutintothelisteningandapplaudingcrowd,thattome—whoknewher—itpresentlybecameevidentshewasactingatsomeoneandIfollowedhereye,hersmile,hergesture,anderelongdiscoveredthatshehadatleastsingledoutahandsomeanddistinguishedaimforhershaftsfullinthepathofthosearrows—tallerthanotherspectators,andthereforemoresuretoreceivethem—stood,inattitudequietbutintent,awell-knownform—thatofDr.John. Thespectacleseemedsomehowsuggestive.TherewaslanguageinDr.John’slook,thoughIcannottellwhathesaiditanimatedme:IdrewoutofitahistoryIputmyideaintothepartIperformedIthrewitintomywooingofGinevra.Inthe“Ours,”orsincerelover,IsawDr.John.DidIpityhim,aserst?No,Ihardenedmyheart,rivalledandout-rivalledhim.Iknewmyselfbutafop,butwherehewasoutcastIcouldplease.NowIknowIactedasifwishfulandresolutetowinandconquer.Ginevrasecondedmebetweenuswehalf-changedthenatureofther?le,gildingitfromtoptotoe.BetweentheactsM.Paul,toldusheknewnotwhatpossessedus,andhalfexpostulated.“C’estpeut-êtreplusbeauquevotremodèle,”saidhe,“maiscen’estpasjuste.”Iknownotwhatpossessedmeeitherbutsomehow,mylongingwastoeclipsethe“Ours,”i.e.,Dr.John.GinevrawastenderhowcouldIbeotherwisethanchivalric?Retainingtheletter,Irecklesslyalteredthespiritofther?le.Withoutheart,withoutinterest,Icouldnotplayitatall.Itmustbeplayed—inwenttheyearned-forseasoning—thusfavoured,Iplayeditwithrelish. WhatIfeltthatnight,andwhatIdid,Inomoreexpectedtofeelanddo,thantobeliftedinatrancetotheseventhheaven.Cold,reluctant,apprehensive,Ihadacceptedaparttopleaseanother:erelong,warming,becominginterested,takingcourage,Iactedtopleasemyself.Yetthenextday,whenIthoughtitover,IquitedisapprovedoftheseamateurperformancesandthoughgladthatIhadobligedM.Paul,andtriedmyownstrengthforonce,Itookafirmresolution,nevertobedrawnintoasimilaraffair.Akeenrelishfordramaticexpress