Part 9 (1/2)
”Is this a time to groan and bewail yourself?” roared the tyrant savagely, entirely out of patience with Leander's everlasting jeremiads; ”for heaven's sake pluck up a little courage, and be a man! And now to consider what is to be done; but first let us see how our good little Isabelle is getting on; is she still unconscious? No; she opens her eyes, and there is the colour coming back to her lips; she will do now, thanks to the baron and Mme. Leonarde. We must divide ourselves into two bands; one will stay with the women and the chariot, the other will scour the country in search of aid. We cannot think of remaining here all night, for we should be frozen stiff long before morning. Come, Captain Fraca.s.se, Leander, and Scapin, you three being the youngest, and also the fleetest of foot, off with you. Run like greyhounds, and bring us succour as speedily as may be. Blazius and I will meantime do duty as guardians of the chariot and its contents.”
The three men designated signified their readiness to obey the tyrant, and set off across country, though not feeling at all sanguine as to the results of their search, for the night was intensely dark; but that very darkness had its advantages, and came to their aid in an unexpected manner, for though it effectually concealed all surrounding objects, it made visible a tiny point of light s.h.i.+ning at the foot of a little hill some distance from the road.
”Behold,” cried the pedant, ”our guiding star! as welcome to us weary travellers, lost in the desert, as the polar star to the distressed mariner 'in periculo maris.' That blessed star yonder, whose rays s.h.i.+ne far out into the darkness, is a light burning in some warm, comfortable room, which forms--Heaven be praised!--part of the habitation of human and civilized beings--not Laestrygon savages. Without doubt there is a bright fire blazing on the hearth in that cosy room, and over it hangs a famous big pot, from which issue puffs of a delicious odour--oh, delightful thought!--round which my imagination holds high revel, and in fancy I wash down with generous wine the savoury morsels from that glorious pot-au-feu.”
”You rave, my good Blazius,” said the tyrant, ”the frost must have gotten into your brain--that makes men mad, they say, or silly. Yet there is some method in your madness, some truth in your ravings, for yonder light must indicate an inhabited dwelling. This renders a change in the plans for our campaign advisable. We will all go forward together towards the promised refuge, and leave the chariot where it is; no robbers will be abroad on such a night as this to interfere with its contents. We will take our few valuables--they are not so numerous or weighty but that we can carry them with us; for once it is an advantage that our possessions are few. To-morrow morning we will come back to fetch the chariot: now, forward, march!--and it is time, for I am nearly frozen to death.”
The comedians accordingly started across the fields, towards the friendly light that promised them so much--Isabelle supported by de Sigognac, Serafina by Leander, and the duenna dragged along by Scapin; while Blazius and the tyrant formed the advance guard. It was not easy work; sometimes plunging into deep snow, more than knee high, as they came upon a ditch, hidden completely under the treacherously smooth white surface, or stumbling, and even falling more than once, over some unseen obstacle; but at length they came up to what seemed to be a large, low building, probably a farm-house, surrounded by stone walls, with a big gate for carts to enter. In the expanse of dark wall before them shone the light which had guided their steps, and upon approaching they found that it proceeded from a small window, whose shutters--most fortunately for them, poor, lost wanderers--had not yet been closed. The dogs within the enclosure, perceiving the approach of strangers, began to bark loudly and rush about the yard; they could hear them jumping up at the walls in vain efforts to get at the intruders. Presently the sound of a man's voice and footsteps mingled with their barking, and in a moment the whole establishment seemed to be on the alert.
”Stay here, all of you,” said the pedant, halting at a little distance from the gate, ”and let me go forward alone to knock for admission. Our numbers might alarm the good people of the farm, and lead them to fancy us a band of robbers, with designs upon their rustic Penates; as I am old, and inoffensive looking, they will not be afraid of me.”
This advice was approved by all, and Blazius, going forward by himself, knocked gently at the great gate, which was first opened cautiously just a very little, then flung impetuously back; and then the comedians, from their outpost in the snow, saw a most extraordinary and inexplicable scene enacted before their astonished eyes. The pedant and the farmer who had opened the gate, after gazing at each other a moment intently, by the light of the lantern which the latter held up to see what manner of man his nocturnal visitor might be, and after exchanging rapidly a few words, that the others could not hear, accompanied by wild gesticulations, rushed into each other's arms, and began pounding each other heartily upon the back--mutually bestowing resounding accolades--as is the manner upon the stage of expressing joy at meeting a dear friend. Emboldened by this cordial reception, which yet was a mystery to them, the rest of the troupe ventured to approach, though slowly and timidly.
”Halloa! all of you there,” cried the pedant suddenly, in a joyful voice, ”come on without fear, you will be made welcome by a friend and a brother, a world-famed member of our profession, the darling of Thespis, the favourite of Thalia, no less a personage than the celebrated Bellombre--you all know his glorious record. Blessed is the happy chance that has directed our steps. .h.i.ther, to the philosophic retreat where this histrionic hero reposes tranquilly upon his laurels.”
”Come in, I pray you, ladies and gentlemen,” said Bellombre, advancing to meet them, with a graceful courtesy which proved that the ci-devant actor had not put aside his elegant, courtly manners when he donned his peasant dress.
”Come in quickly out of this biting wind; my dwelling is rude and homely, but you will be better off within it than here in the open air.”
They needed no urging, and joyfully accepting his kind invitation followed their host into the house, charmed with this unhoped-for good fortune. Blazius and Bellombre were old acquaintances, and had formerly been members Of the same troupe; as their respective roles did not clash there was no rivalry between them, and they had become fast friends--being fellow wors.h.i.+ppers at the shrine of the merry G.o.d of wine. Bellombre had retired from the stage some years before, when at his father's death he inherited this farm and a small fortune. The parts that he excelled in required a certain degree of youth, and he was not sorry to withdraw before wrinkles and whitening locks should make it necessary for him to abandon his favourite roles. In the world he was believed to be dead, but his splendid acting was often quoted by his former admirers--who were wont to declare that there had been nothing to equal it seen on the stage since he had made his last bow to the public.
The room into which he led his guests was very s.p.a.cious, and served both as kitchen and sitting-room--there was also a large curtained bed standing in an alcove at the end farthest from the fire, as was not unusual in ancient farm-houses. The blaze from the four or five immense logs of wood heaped up on the huge andirons was roaring up the broad chimney flue, and filling the room with a bright, ruddy glow--a most welcome sight to the poor half-frozen travellers, who gathered around it and luxuriated in its genial warmth. The large apartment was plainly and substantially furnished, just as any well-to-do farmer's house might be, but near one of the windows stood a round table heaped up with books, some of them lying open as if but just put down, which showed that the owner of the establishment had not lost his taste for literary pursuits, but devoted to them his long winter evenings.
The cordiality of their welcome and the deliciously warm atmosphere in which they found themselves had combined to raise the spirits of the comedians--colour returned to pate faces, light to heavy eyes, and smiles to anxious lips--their gaiety was in proportion to the misery and peril from which they had just happily escaped, their hards.h.i.+ps were all forgotten, and they gave themselves up entirely to the enjoyment of the hour. Their host had called up his servants, who bustled about, setting the table and making other preparations for supper, to the undisguised delight of Blazius, who said triumphantly to the tyrant, ”You see now, Herode, and must acknowledge, that my predictions, inspired by the little glimmer of light we saw from afar, are completely verified--they have all come literally true. Fragrant puffs are issuing even now from the mammoth pot-au-feu there over the fire, and we shall presently wash down its savoury contents with draughts of generous wine, which I see already awaiting us on the table yonder. It is warm and bright and cosy in this room, and we appreciate and enjoy it all doubly, after the darkness and the cold and the danger from which we have escaped into the grateful shelter of this hospitable roof; and to crown the whole, our host is the grand, ill.u.s.trious, incomparable Bellombre--flower and cream of all comedians, past, present and future, and best of good fellows.”
”Our happiness would be complete if only poor Matamore were here,” said Isabelle with a sigh.
”Pray what has happened to him?” asked Bellombre, who knew him by reputation.
The tyrant told him the tragic story of the snow-storm, and its fatal consequences. ”But for this thrice-blessed meeting with my old and faithful friend here,” Blazius added, ”the same fate would probably have overtaken us ere morning--we should all have been found, frozen stiff and stark, by the next party of travellers on the post road.”
”That would have been a pity indeed,” Bellombre rejoined, and glancing admiringly at Isabelle and Serafina, added gallantly, ”but surely these young G.o.ddesses would have melted the snow, and thawed the ice, with the fire I see s.h.i.+ning in their sparkling eyes.”
”You attribute too much power to our eyes,” Scrafina made answer; ”they could not even have made any impression upon a heart, in the thick, impenetrable darkness that enveloped us; the tears that the icy cold forced from them would have extinguished the flames of the most ardent love.”
While they sat at supper, Blazius told their host of the sad condition of their affairs, at which he seemed no way surprised.
”There are always plenty of ups and downs in a theatrical career,” he said--”the wheel of Fortune turns very fast in that profession; but if misfortunes come suddenly, so also does prosperity follow quickly in their train. Don't be discouraged!--things are brightening with you now.
Tomorrow morning I will send one of my stout farm-horses to bring your chariot on here, and we will rig up a theatre in my big barn; there is a large town not far from this which will send us plenty of spectators.
If the entertainment does not fetch as good a sum as I think it will, I have a little fund of pistoles lying idle here that will be entirely at your service, for, by Apollo! I would not leave my good Blazius and his friends in distress so long as I had a copper in my purse.”
”I see that you are always the same warm-hearted, openhanded Bellombre as of old,” cried the pedant, grasping the other's outstretched hand warmly; ”you have not grown rusty and hard in consequence of your bucolic occupations.”
”No,” Bellombre replied, with a smile; ”I do not let my brain lie fallow while I cultivate my fields. I make a point of reading over frequently the good old authors, seated comfortably by the fire with my feet on the fender, and I read also such new works as I am able to procure, from time to time, here in the depths of the country. I often go carefully over my own old parts, and I see plainly what a self-satisfied fool I was in the old days, when I was applauded to the echo every time I appeared upon the stage, simply because I happened to be blessed with a sonorous voice, a graceful carriage, and a fine leg; the doting stupidity of the public, with which I chanced to be a favourite, was the true cause of my success.”
”Only the great Bellombre himself would ever be suffered to say such things as these of that most ill.u.s.trious ornament of our profession,”
said the tyrant, courteously.
”Art is long, but life is short,” continued the ci-devant actor, ”and I should have arrived at a certain degree of proficiency at last perhaps, but--I was beginning to grow stout; and I would not allow myself to cling to the stage until two footmen should have to come and help me up from my rheumatic old knees every time I had a declaration of love to make, so I gladly seized the opportunity afforded me by my little inheritance, and retired in the height of my glory.”
”And you were wise, Bellombre,” said Blazius, ”though your retreat was premature; you might have given ten years more to the theatre, and then have retired full early.”