"What in the devil can he be doing at the inn?" said Dubourg; "do you suppose he can't put on his costume?"

"Impossible!" said the manager; "I sent him a superb yellow tunic, and trousers of the same stuff; for his diadem he has a turban of the same color, that I use in _Mahomet_."

"Oho! so Thesee will be all yellow, eh?"

"That's traditional, and tradition is never wrong. But let's go on with the second act; we must hope that he will turn up."

They began the second act, which did not go so well as the first.

Aricie, in a moment of pa.s.sion, spat her tobacco into Hippolyte's face, whereupon the latter kicked her viciously just as her lover said to her:

"'Moderez des bontes dont l'exces m'embarra.s.se!'"[E]

[E] Be not so kind to me; your excessive kindness embarra.s.ses me.

"That will teach you to be more careful," said Dubourg.

"If I wasn't a woman, I'd answer you in another way," retorted the carpenter, shaking his fist at him.

"I advise you to keep quiet!"

Floridor hurried from his box to reconcile Hippolyte and Aricie; he succeeded at last in pacifying them, and the performance continued. But, a moment later, Dubourg, being on the stage with Phedre, waited for the prompter to give him his cue; but the cue did not come, because the prompter could not see.

"Snuffers!" he cried; "give me some snuffers!"

"What a stupid!" said Phedre, and she stooped and took the candle, and gracefully snuffed it with her fingers. "There, my boy, that's the way we do when we have any instinct." And she replaced the candlestick in the box.

This little interlude was not agreeable to the audience, who had already begun to murmur at the quarrel between Hippolyte and the princess; and one enthusiast, who was more exacting than the rest because he had occasionally attended the theatre at Gren.o.ble, threw a raw potato, which struck Phedre in the left eye. The constable's wife finished the scene in tears, and the second act came to an end at the same time, with indications that a storm was brewing.

Floridor, who came out of his box after each act, ran on to the stage to console Phedre, who declared that she would not act any more. He tried to restore the courage of his actors by a.s.suring them that the later acts would make amends for everything; he relied especially on the debut of Thesee, who had not yet appeared, and to whom he looked to produce a prodigious effect. But Thesee did not arrive, and the anxiety became general.

"What can have happened to him? I'll run back to the inn," said Dubourg, "for his delay begins to surprise me; I'll bring him back with me at once."

"Make haste!" cried Floridor; "for if we keep the audience waiting, everything will be hopelessly ruined."

Let us see why Menard, who was so scrupulously exact in everything he had to do, had not arrived at the theatre. After Dubourg left him, he turned his attention to his toilet; and that was no small matter to a man who had never been to a ball, had never disguised himself, and had worn the same costume for thirty years. Menard scrutinized the tunic, the Turkish trousers, and the turban, in every part; he had some difficulty in making up his mind to put on those yellow garments and to besmear his _venerable_ cheeks with rouge; he had to remind himself constantly of Roscius, Garrick, and Moliere, else he would have abandoned the idea of acting. But he had promised, his word was pledged; monsieur le baron, a n.o.ble Pole, set the example, and he must needs adapt himself to circ.u.mstances.

After an infinitude of trouble, he succeeded at last in arraying himself in the costume of Thesee. He looked at himself in the mirror, smiled at himself, and concluded that he looked very well; he kindled his own ardor by reflecting that he was about to represent the King of Athens, repeated his lines to himself, especially his first speech, then left his room to go to the theatre, saying to himself:

"Thus the Fates decree!"

At that very moment, a traveller had arrived at the inn in a comfortable carriage. Everything about him denoted a man of wealth and of high rank.

The innkeeper made haste to ask what he desired, and the traveller, who was a short, thin, old man, stern of face, inquired curtly what travellers had recently pa.s.sed through the town, and, on receiving the landlord's reply, exclaimed:

"Shall I never learn what has become of them?"

"Will monsieur have supper?" inquired the innkeeper.

"No; I am not hungry. Let my horses be fed. I may go away again very soon. Give me a room where I can rest quietly for a few moments."

The traveller's tone did not invite conversation. The innkeeper at once took a light and escorted the new arrival to the stairs. As they were going up, they came face to face with Menard, who was descending with majestic mien, declaiming:

"'La fortune a mes voeux cesse d'etre opposee, Madame, et dans mes bras met----'"

The little old man raised his eyes when he heard Menard's voice; he gazed at him for some time in surprise, and exclaimed at last:

"Can it be possible that it is Monsieur Menard whom I see in such a costume as this!"

Menard looked at the traveller, and was transfixed with amazement when he recognized the Comte de Montreville, Frederic's father, whose eyes gleamed with anger, and who, taking Thesee by the arm, marched him back abruptly to his room, planted himself in front of him, and began sternly to question him.

"What does all this mean, Monsieur Menard? what is the meaning of that turban on your head, and this yellow costume that makes you look like an escaped lunatic?"

"Monsieur le comte, yellow is not a color to be scorned; in China, the marks of highest distinction consist of yellow waistcoats and peac.o.c.ks'

feathers."

"Morbleu! monsieur, never mind the Chinese, but answer my question: why do I find you rigged out like this?"

"Because I am to play Thesee this evening, monsieur le comte."

"You, play Thesee!"

"Yes, monsieur le comte; in _Phedre_, which is to be given at the local theatre."

"What! monsieur le precepteur, you propose to act?"

"Why not, monsieur le comte? circ.u.mstances---- Besides, Roscius was entertained by Sylla, Garrick is buried at Westminster, and Moliere----"

"Do you consider yourself on a level with those men, monsieur? Do you suppose that I sent you with my son, with the idea of your being an actor? Was it with that end in view that you undertook this journey? Did you think, as well as Frederic, that you could deceive me for long? In a fortnight, you spent the eight thousand francs I handed you----"

"We didn't spend them, monsieur le comte----"

"Silence, monsieur! I was willing to forgive that first escapade; I sent you more money, and I learned that, instead of continuing your journey, you had remained at Gren.o.ble, and that my son was making the tour of Europe in Dauphine."

"It's a superb country, monsieur le comte."

"I left Paris; I was determined to find out for myself what detained you in this neighborhood. I went to Gren.o.ble, and failed to find you; I sought you in vain in that vicinity. And at last I find you here, in this absurd costume! I did not expect this, I admit.--But my son--where is he? is he acting, also?"

"No, monsieur le comte."

"Where is he, then?--speak!"

"He is lost, monsieur le comte."

"Lost! What do you mean? Answer me, monsieur!"

"That is to say, monsieur le comte, he has gone astray."

"Remember, monsieur, that I intrusted my son to you."