VII
At the last moment, when face to face with the public, young Douglasslost courage. The stake for which he played was so great! Like a man whohas put his last dollar upon the hazard, he was ready to snatch his goldfrom the boards. The whole thing seemed weakly tenuous atdress-rehearsal, and Royleston, half-drunk as usual, persistentlybungled his lines. The children in the second act squeaked like nervouspoll-parrots, and even Helen's sunny brow was darkened by a frown as herleading man stumbled along to a dead halt again and again.
"Mr. Royleston," she said, with dismay and anger in her voice, "I beg ofyou to remember that this is a most serious matter."
Her tone steadied the man, for he was a really brilliant and famousactor beginning to break. He grew courtly. "Miss Merival, I assure you Ishall be all right to-night."
At this Douglass, tense and hot, shouted an angry word, and rushed intothe semi-darkness of the side aisle. There Helen found him when she cameoff, his face black with anger and disgust. "It's all off," he said."That conceited fool will ruin us."
"Don't take things too seriously," she pleaded. "Royleston isn't half sohopeless as he seems; he will come on to-night alert as a sparrow andastonish you. We have worked very hard, and the whole company needs restnow rather than more drill. To show your own worry would make them worsethan they are."
In the end he went back to his seat ashamed of his outburst of temper,and the rehearsal came to an end almost triumphantly, due entirely tothe spirit and example of the star, who permitted herself to act for thefirst time.
It was a marvellous experience to see her transformed, by the mereputting aside of her cloak, from the sweet-faced, thoughtful girl to thestern, accusing, dark, and tense woman of the play. Her voice took onthe quivering intonation of the seeress, and her spread hand seemed toclutch at the hearts of her perfidious friends. At such moments Douglasssat entranced, afraid to breathe for fear of breaking the spell, andwhen she dropped her role and resumed her cloak he shivered with pain.
It hurt him, also, to have her say to Royleston: "Now, to-morrow night Ishall be here at the mirror when you enter; I will turn and walk towardsyou till I reach this little stand. I will move around this to theright," etc. It seemed to belittle her art, to render it mechanical, andyet he admitted the necessity; for those who were to play with her wereentitled to know, within certain limits, where to find her in thescene. He began to regret having had anything to do with the rehearsal.It would have been so much more splendid to see the finished product ofher art with no vexing memory of the prosaic processes of itsupbuilding.
She seemed to divine his feelings, and explained: "Up to a certain pointevery art is mechanical; the outlines of my acting are fixed, but withinthose limits I am guided by impulse. Even if I dared to rely on theinspiration of the moment my support cannot; they must know what I amgoing to do. I sincerely wish now that you had left us to our struggle;and yet we've had a good time, haven't we?"
"The best of my whole life," he answered, fervently.
"Now, let's rest. Let's go to the opera to-night, for to-morrow I cannotsee you--no, nor Monday, either. I shall remain in seclusion all day ina darkened room. I must think my part all out alone. There in the darkI shall sleep as much as possible. Helen's 'unconscious cerebration'must now get in its work," she ended, laughingly.
They all dined together at her table, and sat together in the box, whilethe vast harmonies of _Siegfried_ rose like sun-shot mist from beneaththem.
Helen was rapt, swept out of herself; and Douglass, with delicateconsideration, left her alone with her musings, whose depth andintensity appeared in the lines of her sensitive face. He had begun tounderstand the sources of her power--that is to say, her fluid andinstant imagination which permitted her to share in the joy of everyart. Under the spell of a great master she was able to divine thepassion which directed him. She understood the sense of power, thesupreme ease and dignity of Ternina, of De Reszke, just as she was ableto partake in the pride of the great athlete who wrestled upon the mat.She touched life through her marvellous intuition at a hundred points.
He was not discouraged, therefore, when, as they were going out, shesaid, with a quick clasp of her hand on his arm, "This matchless musicmakes our venture seem very small." He understood her mood, and to alesser degree shared it.
"I don't want to talk," she said at the door of her carriage. "Good-byetill Monday night. Courage!"
The Light of the Star: A Novel Page 7
