And Lily, furious, jerked her head toward the passage.

When Lily went home again she did not even think of what she had just heard. The death of the Paras; the Graces ... Nunkie, that old rogue!... She forgot all about it.... She saw only that: the theater, the aerobike, the theater! Ah! she had it in her blood, in spite of those ugly stories! Even outside, when, upon Jimmy's advice, she went to take the air in the parks, under the great blue sky, she regretted the dark stage, the canvas landscapes of the back-drops; the open-air scenery appeared paltry to her, beside it. Between her and nature there was always the aerobike! In a few days ... was it possible? She clenched her little hands over an imaginary handle-bar, hardened her pigeon's eggs, made pedaling movements, in spite of herself, on the floor of the tram-car which she very soon took to get back to the theater again! It was her life, her joy, her suffering, her good and evil ... it was her field, her very own field, the field which she had sown with sweat that she might reap fame and glory.

And, when she returned, she reveled in that smell of hot glue and tar and scent; oh, it was much nicer than the country! And more interesting, too: all the little drama that was being enacted among the Graces, for instance; Nunkie had lost his wonderful reputation, he was surrounded with less reverence; the story of the confiscated letters was beginning its round of the world. It was all very well for him to spoil his dear girls, to double his attentions, to treble the doses of bromide; there was no doubt about it, the troupe's days were numbered. The boy-violinist and others were making love to the Three Graces, fresh troupes were being formed, three more, any number! And they all talked freely, turned their backs without hesitation upon Nunkie, who was prowling round:

"Well?" he asked. "What's the mystery?"

"We were discussing marriage, Nunkie," the Graces answered.

"That's right, my children," he replied, with a sigh.

Lily, in all these plots and counter-plots, knew how to remain neuter and to be very nice to everybody; she had been trained from childhood to keep her opinions to herself; none of her damned business, all that; something that might have been foreseen and expected ... like the death of old Martello, which Jimmy told her of.... Yes, the old man had flickered out in his bed just like that....

But she needed all her composure, indeed, when Jimmy told her that those dear little Bambinis ... ah, there was bad news for them, the poor loves!

"What? What?" asked Lily.

"Well, we are going to lose them; they've been claimed by their brother, it seems."

"What!" cried Lily. "Their brother? The ... the Mexican one?"

"Yes, I think so," said Jimmy. "He's come back from South America. He is in Paris now ... somewhere in a penny show, in the suburbs ... I don't know where ... with a girl."

"With a girl!" thought Lily.

Everything returned to her in a flash! The girl with the bruised skin ... that boy's body all muscle ... Ave Maria! Ave Maria! Not dead! She felt inclined to run up to Trampy, to fly at his throat, to bellow in his face that Ave Maria was here, just to see the effect! But she restrained herself. Suppose it were not true? Oh, she would soon know! That footy rotter, if it were true! O God, grant that it might be true!

All this passed through her brain in less than a second.

"Why!" said Jimmy, seeing her turn pale. "Does that affect you so much ... the loss of your little friends, the Bambinis? For you're going to lose them...."

"No, Jimmy!" she replied indignantly. "You shall not give up the Bambinis to their brother, a cruel, cowardly brute like that, right at the bottom of the profession. I know ... I've seen.... You shan't do it, Jimmy, and, look here, I forbid you!"

"Well, Lily, Lily, I'll do what I can, to please you, you know; I'll try; I'll see the police; you must give your evidence, if you have anything to say. Do you know, Lily, you are as good as gold. You're a good little Lily: hard upon herself and kind to others."

But he was interrupted ... Jimmy here, Jimmy there ... he was wanted ... for the flies, for the roof.... Jimmy flew to the stage, bothered on every side, worried by the Astrarium ... and Lily. Lily! He could not escape her now, do what he might! He had her in his heart, in his brain, everywhere. She lived and existed in his breast, shot up there like a flame! Whatever he had been told about her he no longer knew, did not want to know. And, besides, even if it had been true, oh, he would have forgiven everything! He would have passed over everything! He would have plunged into the abyss to get Lily out of it, whatever she had done; yes! In spite of everything! in spite of everybody! In spite of Trampy, husband or not!



CHAPTER III

To-morrow was to be the great day, the opening of the Astrarium, the first night; and Jimmy, more bustled than ever, forgot Lily ... almost ... on that evening, especially, the evening of the dress-rehearsal: not an ordinary rehearsal, with the band-parts handed to the conductor across the footlights—"A march here, please, a waltz there. 'K you"—no, the whole show, with orchestra and all complete; the stage flooded with light; each turn in its own setting: corridor, wood, room, palace. Jimmy multiplied himself in the final fever. The theater, arranged according to his ideas, was still encumbered with ladders and scaffoldings; but gangs of laborers were hard at work on every side. The obstructions all disappeared like magic, were juggled away. Jimmy had made sure that the roof was ready; he had run from the landing-point, out of sight of the audience, through the door contrived in the wall of the stage, crossed the fly-galleries, come down by the pulley-rope; the whole thing, from roof to stage, had taken him, watch in hand, thirty seconds. And Lily had done it also. It formed part of the turn, a sensational addition to the aerobike. All would be ready, all would go well, provided that Lily was not nervous that evening ... and to-morrow especially! Those confounded crazy little girls! Crazy every one of them: Laurence herself, the bravest of the lot, had just had an awful fall, at Boston, in her excitement at losing her lucky charm. It was the event in the profession, the accident of the day. Lily might be frightened by it. Now it was essential that she should succeed and succeed at the first attempt. His fortune and hers, his future, the success of the Astrarium depended on it. And Jimmy, obsessed by his labors, had hardly time to think of Trampy, in the formidable effort of the eleventh hour. And yet, sometimes, he felt a pain at his heart. That adorable Lily! Would he succeed in making her love him? And now there was that impersonator! Oh, to work, to work! And he went at it, hammer and tongs, to make sure of the aerobike's success. To make them talk of him ... to achieve fame ... which was as sweet as love! And he was wanted from one end of the theater to the other. Oh, he might well look upon the Astrarium as his creation! Already, a few days before, rumors of a strike were current. The managers were boycotted by the artistes, in England.... Jimmy feared lest the Astrarium should feel the consequences, under the pressure of the Performers' Association, but he had arranged everything, seen each artiste separately, explained his plans: gala matinees, creation of an asylum, a home of rest ... a glory to help in such a task ... who could tell but that they were working for themselves by adding their stone to the edifice? He quoted the Para-Paras and their wretched end; old Martello, dead without leaving a penny; the Bambinis, homeless; Ave Maria, unprotected. The men listened, with serious faces. As for the girls, his words came straight from the heart. Those decent girls, who earned their living as they knew how and the living of others besides, they understood him at once; and Lily no longer laughed; on the contrary:

"Me? Whatever you like! For nothing, if you like; rely on me, Jimmy!"

And now the hour had come; they were to appear under the critical eye of Harrasford. The acting-manager had arrived from England that same day with the stage-manager, who was "behind." It made a strange impression, that huge red-and-gold house, glittering with light and sounding curiously empty to the thunder of the band. Everybody was at his post: the tall flunkeys stood motionless at the entrance-doors, in the promenades, as if the audience had been there, whereas there was practically nobody except Harrasford and the manager. And on the stage, which had been cleared of every superfluous piece of property, splendid order reigned: the scene-shifters, up above, had their hands on the windlasses; the two electricians, on their perches, turned the lime-light where it was to fall; the drops rose and fell without a hitch; the scenes slipped into their places, shifted, in the English fashion, by one man. For each turn on the stage, the next was ready to come on, no more; all the rest were in the dressing-rooms. But there, behind the iron curtain, one could picture staircases crowded with people running up and down, passages full of light, a flurried ant-hill, and feel that a ring of bells would be enough to bring tumbling on to the stage a whole glittering, grotesque or radiant world of people, from the monkey-faced comedian to Lily, in her pink tights, an image of Venus. There was electricity in the air of that empty house, in which all felt the presence of the powerful master, harder to please than a crowd! And rays of light ran along the stage, the back-drop seemed a cloud ready to split in the crash of the thunder, under the storm of the raging brasses. On the stage, the turns defiled in their order, under the shimmering lights: the Bambinis, brother and sister, supple grace and strength combined, filled the huge space with the free play of their rosy bodies and the brightness of their genuine gaiety. The Three Graces formed the human cluster, a hanging group of faces, figures, shoulders and glorious lines. The program poured out laughter, harmony, beauty, till, against the blue forest, came the scarlet step-dances of the Roofers. And then silence: the feature of the evening, the aerobike! There was a moment's anxiety. A net was stretched above the stalls, from the footlights to the opening in the roof. For the audience, at any rate, all danger was removed, even in case of a fall. Then the glass dome above opened, and the curtain rose on the Elysian glimmer of a scene studded with stars; and everything was empty, stage and auditorium. The distance seemed immense: "miles and miles!" The machine was to start out suddenly, rush through space, disappear up above, like a meteor that shoots out from infinity and returns to it.

A few seconds passed, during which Jimmy gave Lily her last instructions:

"You're not afraid, Lily? Would you like me to do it?"

Afraid! She turned her calm face to him. Oh, she could have accomplished impossible and cruel things, braved torture, walked on burning coals! She felt herself made of supple steel, unerring and exact:

"Up, quick, quick! Ready, Jimmy?"

"Ready!"

"Then ... GO!"

The aerobike flashed like an arrow from the bow, raised itself with a magnificent jerk; the propeller hummed like a thunder-bolt, the wings rustled in flight, pointed toward the opening, went up ... up ... up ... disappeared in the star-strewn sky.... It was done! The band struck up the triumphal march, Harrasford, the manager, the few who were present all burst into cheers; and, suddenly, over the house plunged in darkness, from the back of the stage, came a burst of light. Lily, after running over the roof and sliding down the pulley, was descending against the blue back-drop, bringing with her the star! First, one saw the light breaking, then swelling and increasing in brilliancy, and Lily appeared, a starry Eve, holding, in her upraised hand, a dazzling luminary, a crystal globe, which an invisible wire from behind filled with an intensity of light. And powerful rays shot to every side, end-of-the-world coruscations, above the crater of the orchestra.

"Splendid!" cried Harrasford. "That dishes the waterspouts at the Hippodrome, the avalanches, everything!" And, as Jimmy came up, "Good boy, Jimmy!" he said, catching him a great smack on the shoulder by way of a compliment. "And your girl ... your ... Maggy ... your ... what's her name? Lily ... glorious! Very good indeed! Couldn't be better! Capital idea!"

He gave a quick glance at his watch, a few words to Jimmy, to the manager, over his shoulder, on the wing:

"All the boxes booked three weeks ahead? All the stalls? That's right! Good-by, good luck!"

Already his broad back was disappearing through the door; had to catch the midnight train for Cologne; presence indispensable.

"Telephone to-morrow; let me know how things go. Ta-ta!"

And Harrasford was far away.

And Lily? Lily was in her dressing-room, stupefied with delight. How soon it was done! How simple it was! Jimmy, after all, with his scrawls and his scribbles, with his brain-work: what a discovery he had made! She would have liked it to last for ever, the flight on the aerobike; she still seemed to be rushing up to the stars, to feel the coolness of the night on her face. How funny it was, going up, up, up and out through that hole. She was still laughing at it, with little convulsive movements of the shoulders, and stammering out things.

When she was dressed, she received Jimmy's congratulations and everybody's. They gave her a bouquet:

"To our little favorite!"

She answered, without knowing what she said; went home. Everything seemed to be turning round and round. She ate a few mouthfuls, washed down with a glass of milk; and then, suddenly, made a rush for Glass-Eye! A pillow fight followed:

"Here, take that! Take that! And that! And that!"

Ten minutes of an epic struggle, on the bed thrown into confusion and disorder, as after a murder; huge slaps on the firm, rounded forms; virile smackings; and Glass-Eye, breathlessly, had to own herself beaten, to beg for mercy.

"That'll teach them!" cried Lily, falling on the bed, panting, drunk with joy, drunk with joy! Trampy, Mexico, Ma's insults, the jealousies, the grudges, Daisy, the fat freaks: pooh, none of that existed for her! Nothing remained but herself, drunk with an immense joy! She was almost delirious, in the excess of her great happiness:

"I'll smash up their damned troupes, do you hear, Glass-Eye? There! Like that!" And she tried to renew the fight, but her strength failed her. "Dished and done for, their damned troupes!"

And she laughed, she burst with laughing, when she thought of their eighteen feet of stage:

"Stages as big as my hand, Glass-Eye, is what they've got to turn in!"

Whereas, she went straight up in the air, up to the stars, miles high, up above everything! Bang! A smack for Glass-Eye, who was just taking off her skirt!

"And I say, Glass-Eye! Ma, who said that I ... you know what she said! But wait till they see me in my grand dresses! I'll order them to-morrow; and my hats too. And I'll invite Pa and Ma to the hotel! And we'll drink champagne and I'll have fifty francs' worth of flowers on the table, just to show them! 'Our Lily,' that's what I'm going to be, 'our own Lily,' damn it!"

Lily, when she was in bed, turned things over and over in her brain. Yes, her Pa was quite right. It was for her good, for her own good! Big salaries, which would all belong to her! And no more performing-dog toques, but big hats and feathers and motor-cars and furs, but no goggles! No, she must find something that wouldn't hide her face, so that people would recognize her and say:

"That's Lily!"

And the road behind her motor would be strewn with the bodies of pros who had died of jealousy!

And she would consult Pa and Ma on the color of her liveries, on her crest: a wheel, with wings to it! And Lily dropped off into a sleep interrupted by awful nightmares, in which Ma was dead—poor Ma!—before witnessing her triumph—and in which elephants trumpeted in her honor and sea-lions applauded her with their finny fore-paws, all along a queer sort of Tottenham Court Road, paved with fat freaks, at the end of which a Horse Shoe, as big as the Marble Arch, opened out upon the stars.

Poor Glass-Eye, on her side, had the most outlandish dreams. Her brain was turned from living in the midst of all that. She dreamed that she was flying, too; that she was Lily in her turn; that she was soaring over Whitechapel; but, from time to time, a nervous kick from Lily recalled her to the realities of life.

* * * * *

"Glass-Eye! There's a knock at the door, I think. Or else I'm dreaming. What's the time? Ten o'clock. Get up, Glass-Eye! If it's the landlady, tell her I'll pay her next week!"

But Glass-Eye, who had gone to the door, shut it suddenly and came back to Lily, looking quite startled:

"Miss Lily, there's some one, all in black, on the stairs; a ghost!"

"If you're trying to frighten me," cried Lily, jumping out of bed, "I'll knock your other eye out! Take care!"

She was choking with excitement. Lily was afraid of nothing. But those confounded ghosts: poor Ma, perhaps! And she quickly separated two fingers wide behind her back, so as to be on the safe side and ward off ill-luck:

"Come with me, Glass-Eye; you go first!"

And Lily, in her night-dress, half-opened the door, looked out.

A thin woman, all in black, stood motionless. It was not Ma. Lily breathed more freely:

"What do you want?" she asked.

"I want to speak to Miss Lily," said the woman in black. "I went to the theater and they gave me your address. I came.... I suppose you don't remember me, it's so long ago. Ave Maria, on the wire in Mexico?"

"Ave Maria! Come in," said Lily.

Ave Maria, whom she had sought for so long. She would know at last! Oh, if it were true! God grant that it might be true! Lily, hardly recovered from her fright, quivered at the thought. And she devoured Ave Maria with her eyes. She recognized her, now that she knew: it was she indeed, but grown old before her time, looking wretched, thin, hollow-eyed, a face all skin and bone. And the two stood contemplating each other in silence.

"How pretty you've grown!" whispered Ave Maria timidly. "No one would take you for a professional."

But a sudden fit of coughing brought scarlet patches to her pale cheeks.

"It catches me here," she said, pressing her hand to her chest. "It's damp, sometimes, in the tent. And then half-naked on those trestles. The work warms one, it's true. The other night I saw some one who knew you, a gentleman. I should have liked to ask him more, but my brother struck him in the face. I got my turn after. However, I wanted to see you. I went to the Astrarium. I asked them."

"Go on," said Lily, who was burning to know, but did not want to show it. "Glass-Eye, give me my dressing-gown. Go on, please!"

"I don't know that I dare," said Ave Maria, "now that I have seen you. You are so much better-looking than I am. Are you still living with him?" she asked, in a low voice, fixing two fiery eyes on Lily.

"No," said Lily, "I am living with nobody!"

"But they told me. I heard at Buenos Ayres ... the story of the whippings, your running away with him...."

"What whippings? And I'm living with nobody!" retorted Lily, very haughtily.

"But you have lived with him ... in Germany ... Trampy, you know."

"No," said Lily, "I was married, wasn't I, Glass-Eye?"

"But I'm married to him!" Ave Maria broke in, more aggressively than before.

"Oh, if it were true!" thought Lily. "Oh, if it were true!"

She dared not believe it, it would have been too beautiful, beautiful beyond dreams. And, with her nerves stretching to breaking-point:

"Prove it!" she said coldly, to Ave Maria.

"Yes, I have my proofs," replied Ave Maria, shaken with a furious cough. "And I'll show them! Trampy belongs to me, not to you! He's in Paris, they tell me.... And I mean to have him, do you hear? I've suffered enough and to spare. I've done everything since he left me. Look here, at Caracas people used to offer me twopence to let them black my eye, sometimes, when my brother was locked up at the police-station. And there were the one-horse circuses where we slept in a heap on the straw, in Chili or some such country. And, sometimes, I lost my balance on the wire, because of my cough. And my brother: you know him! And the cattle-men, when they're drunk! One of them stabbed me here, with a knife, there, here, in the breast; they had to cut it off—the breast—later, at Montevideo, because of the gangrene. Yes, he stabbed me with a knife, because I wouldn't say, 'I love you,' to him! Fancy my saying, 'I love you,' to any one but Trampy! Never! I would have let them jump on my chest with their hobnailed boots first! And, now that Trampy's here, I want him! He belongs to me and I mean to have him."

"Well, take him, if he belongs to you!" said Lily. "I don't care a hang for your Trampy; I've turned him out long ago!"

"So ... it's true? If he's no longer with you, I can have him again. I shall have him! I'll have my brother locked up, if necessary, to be free! I have only to say a word, not because of the story of that nose which he bit off at Rio: no, the other day, at Vaugirard, he used the knife. I'll tell everything, to have my Trampy back."

And her rough voice became gentle now, in her Anglo-Italian jargon, with a dash of Spanish in it; everything became clear, everything yielded before the violence of that fierce love. Lily was astounded to hear it:

"That's what I call love!" she thought. "I had no idea, my! And all for Trampy! It's worse than in the novels."

And she was touched, in spite of herself, and, when Ave Maria cried, "Oh, how happy you must be, if he loves you!" Lily dared not protest that she didn't care a hang for that soaker, for fear of hurting the poor martyr. She replied, on the contrary, that Trampy was very nice, but that he was hers no longer, that he belonged to Ave Maria, since Ave Maria had the proofs ... if she had the proofs.

"I have them here, Miss Lily, my marriage-lines. I was able to get them, after he went. I had the certificate witnessed. My brother, when he came to fetch me, never knew about it. I sewed it into the lining of a portmanteau; no chance of losing it: here it is."

And she produced a yellow document from her bodice and laid it on the table.

Lily seized upon it ... read it at a glance ... it was quite regular! Oh, the footy rotter! Two wives! To say nothing of his thirty-six girls! And what a fine trick she would play him! At last, she was about to get rid of her festering sore! She could not breathe for happiness. And, as Ave Maria was watching her movements, lest she should keep the paper, Lily handed it back to her, certain that it was in good hands, that it would not be lost.

Then and there an idea came to her. Trampy would be at the theater that afternoon with Tom, who, knowing little about all these stories, interested only in the condition of those biceps of his, had taken Trampy as his assistant and had told Lily so. And Lily had said nothing, reserving to herself the right to have him turned off the stage by Jimmy, with a smack in the eye, before everybody: the footy rotter, coming there to defy her! Well, there would be no smack in the eye; she would simply hand him over to Ave Maria, as one flings a lump of carrion to a tigress!

"Wait a bit, you faithful husband!" she growled. "You'll see, presently!"

And, first of all, when Ave Maria rose to go, Lily forbade her to do anything of the kind, for fear that the brother, who must be out looking for her, might drag her back to the booth at the fair and then take the first train to some other place, after getting hold of the Bambinis. And Lily meant none of all this to take place; she would rather go to the police and have the brute arrested!

"Stay here, Ave Maria," she said. "I'll give you back your Trampy this afternoon."

Oh, if she had been alone, how she would have flown at Glass-Eye, to work off her superabundant joy! It would have been a merciless fight, with slaps in the Mexican style! But a lady receiving her friends must set a good example. She contented herself with hustling Glass-Eye by word and gesture:

"My new dress! My big hat!"

Ave Maria, quite taken up with the excitement of seeing Trampy again, of having him back again, left herself in Lily's hands. She felt as if she were looking at a princess, when Lily made Glass-Eye spin round the room. She could not even help smiling when she saw Glass-Eye catch her foot in the dresses spread out on the floor, so much so that Lily asked her angrily if she meant to go on hopping about like that for ever, if she really wanted to have a candle lit in her glass eye to make her see that bodice, there, right in front of her nose, damn it! And Glass-Eye's fright, when she heard that ... though Glass-Eye was never surprised at anything that Lily said or did!

Going to the Astrarium, Lily, followed by Glass-Eye, walked along the street with her cheeky feather waving like a flag in battle. Ave Maria, by her side, kept close to the wall, with frightened glances to right and left; Lily did not call her attention to the Astrarium posters for fear of humiliating her: she would have had to explain that she was topping the bill and poor Ave Maria, who was starring at the fair, would never have understood. A professional abyss separated the two of them. Lily saw this and had too kind a heart to let the other feel it. What a difference between them! Merely in the way in which Lily entered the theater and smiled to the stage-doorkeeper! Ave Maria followed very timidly, like a beggar-woman stealing into a palace. She felt out of her element in those big theaters, where she had not appeared for ever so long, having come down to the level of one-horse circuses, patched canvas tents, acrobatic performances in the open air, on the slack-wire stretched from tree to tree. Lily looked a princess beside her, really. Ave Maria was even surprised to see her address a gentleman who was there: it was the architect, with a bandage over his eye. Ave Maria recognized him; and he, rendered prudent by the blow which he had received from "her man," stepped back instinctively at the sight of her. But Lily caught him by the lapel of his coat:

"You've been fooling me ... with your measurements," she said, "and there are certain things that jossers oughtn't to meddle with; and it serves you right, that black eye of yours; but I forgive you, because of the immense service you're doing me ... without knowing it ... you lover of second-rate goods!" she muttered, as she watched him slink off, taking her forgiveness with him.

The stage was almost empty. Tom had come, not Trampy; so much the better, there would be all the more there presently, for the great scene!

"Wait for me a minute," she said to Ave Maria. "Sit down over there, in the corner."

And Lily went up to her dressing-room; she wanted to look her best, to bedizen herself ... a little red on her lips, a little blue on her eyelids ... to make Trampy regret the more what he was going to lose. And, when she was ready, Jimmy passed and, icicle though he was, could not help paying her a compliment on her good looks. He appeared quite disconcerted:

"Just imagine, Lily. What do you think happened to me, in the impersonator's dressing-room? I had something to say to him ... I walk in ... see the impersonator half undressed ... and it's a woman, Lily, a magnificent woman! You never told me, you kiddie!"

"Hush!" said Lily. "Don't give her away; it's a secret, it's her living, Jimmy."

"Don't be afraid, Lily, I won't prevent any one from earning her living, as long as she does all right on the stage. But I don't know where I am now. That woman who came in with you, for instance," continued Jimmy jestingly, "she looks just like a man; there's no knowing; nothing would surprise me after that!"

"She's a woman, Jimmy, a married woman! You'll see presently. We'll have a good laugh; mind you're there! I want everybody to be there! It's a surprise, Jimmy!"

What a kiddie she was, thought Jimmy, as he went down the stairs. The architect, the impersonator: the two scandals of her life. That impersonator whom she kissed in front of him, a story that had gone round the world, Lily's love affairs, one more ready to leave wife and children for her sake: the exaggeration of the stage, always; professional boasting. Like the story of the whippings, like those girls whom she had described to him, and herself, with all over her skin—"Here, here, damn it!"—wounds that you could put your finger into. Or like those who were said to be done for, or burned alive, or drowned in shipwrecks, with waves miles high, all for the honor of the profession; when, perhaps, it was simply as good a way as another of retiring from the stage, to get married, with a flourish of trumpets! It wasn't true, all that, or their parade of vice either, all humbug, from end to end, their amorous conquests, their orgies, their escapades, like their ostrich-feathers, that long, or their sham diamonds, that big, and bouquets large enough to fill a cab. But they were decent-hearted girls, all the same: that Lily, what a kiddie, thought Jimmy, feeling quite comforted, quite glad on her account.

And just then, as luck would have it, he met Tom, to whom Glass-Eye had brought Miss Lily's album, with a request for his autograph. Tom, whose formidable muscles were hardly capable of wielding a pen, especially to write "thoughts," was holding the album with a sheepish look, turning it round and round:

"I say," he said, as Jimmy passed, "write something; for me!"

"All right!" said Jimmy.

And he lightly turned the pages of the album, the famous album, said to be crammed with passionate declarations. Not a bit of it! Nothing but foolery and childish nonsense:

"May joy and pleasure be your lot . . . trot, trot, trot!"

"... Regard me as a link. Loving Pal."

"Un afetuoso saludo y un augurio de feliz viaje le desea Pedro y Paolo."

"Hoping we shall meet again, if not here, there.

"Joe Brooks."

"Puedo decir que nunca he visto yoo ... tan cuida y bella...."

There was page upon page, in this style, with, here and there, a rough sketch: a heart pierced by an arrow, signed, "Castaigne;" a dried shamrock: "Blarney Castle;" a bit of seaweed: "Dundee." Jimmy smiled to himself and especially at what he heard beside him, where Glass-Eye, while gazing wide-eyed at Tom's immense arms, was telling him all her troubles: quite mad, Miss Lily, ought to be locked up! And she ought to know: never left her side since she began traveling by herself, day or night.

"You're a lucky one, you are!" Tom broke in.

"I should like to see you try it, just!" Glass-Eye retorted. "And meantime I get more smacks than halfpence. Oh, I know she'll pay me all in a lump, when she gets it! She's very generous, really. And her Pa and Ma ... yes ... do you know what she means to do? She's not angry with them any longer. She's going to stuff them with turkey and pudding at the hotel and stand them fifty francs' worth of flowers. She's forgiven them!"

"That's more than I have!" replied Tom. "Her Pa will know what I am made of to-morrow, the brute! He'll have one on the mug, for boxing my ears and kicking me out ... you know ... because of the letters from Trampy."

"If you do that, Tom, you'll have Miss Lily to reckon with! What! You're laughing!" cried Glass-Eye angrily. "You don't know how it hurts ... on one's bones! And those pillow-fights: I've had my nose smashed in one of them before now! Nothing surprises me that Miss Lily says or does. Why, this very morning, she wanted to put a lighted candle in my glass eye!"

"Eh, what? A light in your eye?" exclaimed Tom suddenly. "I wonder if one really could ... I say, Jimmy, could one?"

"Yes," said Jimmy, greatly amused, "with an invisible wire under the dress...."

"Hurrah!" cried Tom. "Would you like two shillings a day, Glass-Eye? And your food and clothes? You shall travel with me; you shall appear on the stage. Come along to the cafe, we'll sign the engagement!"

"But what will Miss Lily say?" objected Glass-Eye, trembling at the idea of announcing her departure to her terrible mistress.

"Well," said Tom, "I'll be nice to her Pa, if she's nice to you. Come along!"

"But I don't know how to sign my name."

"You can make your mark, before two witnesses. Come along!"

Glass-Eye, dazzled and beglamored, followed Tom. She, an artiste! On the stage! At last! Going round the world with Tom ... living with him ... married ... almost!

"That's come in the nick of time!" said Jimmy, as he watched her go off the stage. "Lily, perhaps ... in her new position ... will want a real maid, not a Glass-Eye! Lily ... why, she's perfection! To think of the abysses she has walked along without falling! There's more merit than one thinks in that kind of life. And how I should like to get hold of the people who talk ill of her. And that ... that ... oh, that one!"

And Jimmy clenched his fists, at the thought of Trampy, and his heart burst forth: all his patient, brave, manly heart, now well nigh exhausted.



CHAPTER IV

Poor Ave Maria, indifferent to what was going on before her, was still waiting on the stage. For that matter, it was but a few minutes since Lily brought her there. Ave Maria felt inclined to go and meet Trampy on the pavement, to throw her arms round his neck as soon as he appeared. But Lily had earnestly recommended her not to move, whatever happened. So she remained in her corner and, under the pale light, with her back to the forest scene, in the shadow, Ave Maria looked like a lurking she-wolf, ready to leap out at any moment.



As for Lily, she tripped down the stairs to the stage, for a few seconds contemplated all those bill-toppers at her feet, so to speak; but she took the last stairs at a bound: Trampy had just entered! Ave Maria, in her corner, behind the pillars and the confused heap of scenery, could not see him. Lily preferred that. She would manage everything her own way and get rid of him once and for all ... get rid of that footy rotter who had come there to jeer at her. He stepped along, with his hat on one side and a dead cigar between his teeth. Trampy, broken, diseased, done for, was jubilant for all that; turned his broad smile from girl to girl, winked his eye gaily at the Roofers, who drew back in disgust, and, with outstretched hand:

"How d'you do, Lily? How's my dear little wife?"

He enjoyed the humiliation which he was inflicting upon her, would have liked his clothes to be still shabbier, his shoes more down at heel, so that he might thoroughly disgrace his dear little wife—that great bill-topper, who was leaving the pink of husbands in such a state of destitution. And he threw out his chest, increased his familiarities, and even pretended to kiss her, pushed his blotched and pimpled mug close to that charming face. Jimmy gave a bound: Trampy! On the stage! Lily's tormentor! Jimmy, pale with fury, walked up to him, stiff-armed, ready to break the jaw of that thief in the night and chuck him into the street, without more words! But Lily stopped him with a quick gesture:

"Why, Jimmy," she said, "would you keep a man from earning his living? Do you find fault with a husband for loving his little wife? I am your little wife, am I not?" she continued, tantalizing Trampy with her peach-like cheek, tickling his nose with her fair curls. "Don't you deserve a dear little wife?"

"Why, of course I do!" Trampy agreed, surprised, all the same, at this loving reception from his dear little wife.

"There!" cried Lily, unable to restrain herself any longer and giving him a box on the ears. "That'll teach you to call me your little wife, you damned tramp cyclist! I've never been your little wife. I'll show you your little wife, the real one. Come along, Ave Maria! Here's Trampy!"

"Eh, what?" said Trampy, turning color. "Ave Maria? I don't know any Ave Maria."

But already Ave Maria was upon him, pressing him in her arms: her Trampy! And her cough brought pink-red patches to her hectic cheeks.

"What's this mean? I don't know you," he stammered, gazing horror-stricken at this old, lean woman, who was taking possession of him before everybody, taking possession of him who cared only for plump little things, sultan that he was. "I don't know her, I don't know her!"

"Here!" cried Lily, snatching the paper from Ave Maria's bodice. "Do you know that? Can you read? Now will you deny that she's your wife ... your wife ... your wife?" she repeated, rejoicing in being able to hurl the word to Trampy, who turned pale with fright.

"We'll try and arrange it," whispered Jimmy, still hardly recovered from his surprise. "A divorce in Lily's favor first! She'll dictate your answer for you; you've only got to say yes to everything. And then you can be off somewhere; to West Australia. I'll pay your expenses. And don't you ever dare to show your face again! Never! Do you understand?"

"And that'll teach you to make little of people!" cried Lily. "Let's drink to the health of Trampy, the faithful husband! I'll stand champagne all round to the health of good old Trampy and his dear little wife!"

But, without waiting for the champagne, already Ave Maria was dragging Trampy to the door and the Roofer girls gave him a triumphal exit. They sent him to Halifax, they sent him to Coventry. They flourished things at his head, amid an uproar of jolly hootings, and took aim at him—"Ping! Ping!"—and pinched him, as the Merry Wives did Falstaff in Windsor Forest. And they slipped off their shoes in honor of his wedding, by Jove! And Trampy fled under a shower of boots and slippers, fled like mad, as though the devil were after him.

Jimmy did not know if he was on his head or his heels for joy:

"I'll stand the champagne!" he said. "To Miss Lily's health!"

So much had happened in those few minutes: Lily free again ... and no scandal ... the divorce assured ... Trampy admitting his misdeeds, inventing them, if necessary, confessing anything they asked him to, as long as they did not mention bigamy.... Jimmy, had it been possible, would have offered a general picnic to the whole company. He, usually so calm, felt inclined to sing, to laugh. Never would he have dared to hope.... And it had all come so simply, like the things that are bound to happen. Lily was free!

"Bring the bottles up here," he said to the call-boy, "and biscuits and cakes. We'll drink it here! We'll christen the stage, as if we were launching a ship ... in champagne, here, by ourselves! among ourselves! Here's to the stage-manager! Here's to all of us!"

Lily, happy as happy could be, shook everybody by the hand, distributed a "'K you" here and a "'K you" there. She would have liked to have Glass-Eye by her side, to keep her in countenance, open her bag, give her her handkerchief ... liked to be a little lady who can't do without her maid ... but, damn it, where was Glass-Eye? And Lily clenched her fist when she saw her return with cakes in her hands, escorted by Tom, who helped to carry the champagne.

"Where have you been, Glass-Eye?" asked Lily severely. "What have you been doing with Tom? Give me my handkerchief, Glass-Eye."

"Here's your bag, Miss Lily," said Glass-Eye excitedly. "I'm going to leave you, Miss Lily."

"What for?" said Lily, feeling vexed. "Because I owe you a few little things?"

"Oh, no, not that! I'm going to be a star, too; on my hands: Demon Maud, the lady with the flaming eye; a candle in my glass eye ... before two witnesses ... I made my mark at the bottom."

"She's drunk!" cried Lily, utterly dumfounded. "Or else she's going mad. Jimmy! Tom! Glass-Eye's going mad!"

But, when Tom had explained, Lily approved. Glass-Eye wasn't stupid, really; very intelligent, though you'd never think it. Glad to see her engaged.... And she shook her by the hand, like an old friend and comrade, glad to hear of the success of others ... among artistes....

And, suddenly, with head thrown back, full-throated, her feather nodding hysterically on her head, Lily laughed ... laughed ... laughed!

Maud an artiste! On her hands! A candle in her eye! One fat freak the more on the stage! Gee, they must drink to Glass-Eye's health: Glass-Eye, the bill-topper!

They were all laughing now, filling their glasses at a table in the middle of the stage, eating cakes, amusing themselves with the corks, which went pop, like toy guns, and applauding with their thumb-nails. To the Astrarium! And long live jollity! That night, they would one and all risk their skins. They were like soldiers drinking to their sweethearts, in the trenches, before the battle. And everything promised well; already a legend was forming among the painted faces: the booking office besieged; ladies and gentlemen in motors; motors in a row, miles and miles of motors; the street bursting with people who had come to book seats! And champagne on the stage, cakes, my, for the asking! An orgy which would start its trip around the world to-morrow, with those few bottles transformed into a Niagara of champagne, enough to flood every greenroom from the Klondike to Calcutta!

They all enjoyed themselves and let themselves go. And the Roofers, who worshiped Lily, in spite of her abominable tricks, raised their glasses to her health, crowded round her, smiled merrily at her with their white teeth, congratulated her for sending that footy rotter packing:

"Here's to Miss Lily! And a round on the thumbnail in honor of Miss Lily!"

This christening of the Astrarium was turning into a triumph for her; and there was the evening to come ... the evening! It made her forget Trampy, Jimmy, Glass-Eye, everybody. And ... the next day ... her Pa, her Ma, the New Trickers would be at her feet! Oh, she would give ten years of her life if to-morrow could be there now!

And the evening came. Lily did not leave the theater. She walked nervously from her dressing-room to the stage, inspected the final operations, interested herself in everything, stopped the boy-violinist, who was crossing the stage with the other members of the band, congratulated him on his approaching marriage with one of the Graces. She talked to the artistes going up to their dressing-rooms, bestowed a smile upon Jimmy, another on the stage-manager, joked with the limelight-men working their apparatus on either side of the stage. The footlights lit up with a row of flames, the storm approached. There was a ringing of electric bells—"Ting! Ting! Ting!"—as in the machine-room of a ship before the tempest; the orchestra roared; and, as though at a thunder-clap, the velvet curtain split asunder: Patti-Patty was revealed on the stage, while the band played as if possessed. Lily, in the shadow of the wings, put her hand to her heart; her veins were ablaze. And that audience, at which she peeped through a crack in the scenery; that audience was hers, with its rustling silks, its bare shoulders, its diamonds, its flowers! She would have liked to step forward, to say:

"Here I am!"

She felt herself excited by a curious feeling; an aggressive mood, which, no doubt, came from all the healths she had drunk: to the Astrarium, to this one, to that one, to all of us! Gee, what fun it had been: champagne, cakes, my, tons of cakes! And Lily, who had long been unused to any such excess, felt her head splitting. A fever seemed also to reign all over the dressing-rooms and passages. They talked of front boxes reserved at a thousand francs by the Aero Club; stalls at fifty francs; every seat in the house filled; and the best people, nothing but the best! Lily, in her exalted condition, took it that they had all come for her; and she had to dazzle them all! And soar above them all! To a hurricane of applause from "her favorite audience," the Astrarium audience, on a first night!

And she felt so gay that she was not angry when Glass-Eye asked her, now that she was an artiste, too, to teach her her stage-smile.

"Why, of course, Glass-Eye! I owe you that, to say nothing of the rest! But you won't lose by waiting! Take my word for it: among friends, you know!..."

And she kissed her maid, felt inclined to cry, became quite sentimental at her going....

She was less amiable to Nunkie, who was prowling around near her. Oh, how angry she felt with that old rogue! Because of Thea, first of all; and then it was he who gave her away, not Jimmy! Tom had told her. Nunkie mumbled something to her: his dear girls; ungrateful creatures who were leaving him! His poor life shattered! His pigeons, he had his pigeons left; yes, and his home; but what was that compared with loving hearts? And, as she was on such good terms with Jimmy and everybody, couldn't she use her influence? Oh, if he could have the Bambinis, be appointed their guardian! "He would bring together such a nice little family troupe: all the joys of home!

"You old wretch!" cried Lily, in a threatening voice. "Just go and look, at the corner of Oxford Street and Newman Street, if you can see me! You old snaky! You old bromide merchant! Hiding letters, too, you nigger-driving humbug! Oh, you're sure to get the Bambinis, I don't think!"

"Ver-r-rdammt!"

Nunkie turned on his heel, shaking the passage with tremendous oaths.

"I thought," Lily shot at him from behind sarcastically, "I thought one ought never to swear! It's wicked to swear, Mr. Fuchs!"

In her dressing-room, she went on laughing at Nunkie and his "Donner-r-r-wetter-r-r!" and his "S-s-satan! S-s-satan!" It made her comb her hair all awry and apply the grease-paint to her cheeks with a trembling hand. She felt a buzzing in her head: that confounded music which seemed to come from everywhere and hissed in her ears! But, when her turn came, she'd show them! Never had she felt so light. She was sure of herself, strangely sure. It seemed to her that, if need be, she'd have shot up to the stars, damn it!

As soon as she was ready, she went down to the stage. She didn't know why. It was her wish to be everywhere, her craving for movement. The aerobike had been taken from its cage, behind the back-drop; the stage-manager, Jimmy and Jimmy's assistants were standing round it. Jimmy was testing everything, for the last time, making sure that there would be no hitch:

"Hullo, Lily!" he said, when he saw her. "Are you ready?"

"Ready?" said Lily. "Look!"

And she flung back her wrap with her two bare arms and stood, a figure all charm and grace, with youth, joy and courage sparkling in her eyes. In the mysterious half-light, amid the endless sounds from the band, Lily seemed to shed rays. Jimmy, dazzled, looked at that dainty form, that delicate breast, those rounded shoulders, that splendid body fashioned by years of Spartan life, each muscle of which was quivering with enthusiasm. And she laughed ... laughed ... head thrown back, full-throated; told the story of Nunkie, with furious gestures, as though she were strangling the old beast. And then came sudden displays of feeling, for the Three Graces and the Bambinis.

Jimmy had never seen her like that. The stage-manager also thought her queer, for he looked at Jimmy as though to ask what on earth was the matter with her. And, going up to him, he said:

"Look how she's trembling! One would think she had a fever."

"It's quite true," said Jimmy.

And the two stared at each other in consternation when Lily, stooping to pick up her cloak, was nearly losing her balance and coming to the ground. They exchanged a few words in a whisper. Then the stage-manager said:

"Go up to your dressing-room, Miss Lily. You mustn't stay here, you know. We'll send for you when the time comes. Go and put your hair straight."

It was only a pretext; but the same thought had passed through both their minds: it was the champagne! Lily, who was accustomed to drink nothing but water, was ... if not exactly drunk ... well ...

Thereupon, in an instant, Jimmy made up his mind: it was finished and settled, irrevocably, as though he had spent hours in reflecting. The newspapers had expressed doubts; there had been suggestions of trickery. An immediate, brilliant success was essential, to carry the thing off: a hitch and all was lost and the luck of the Astrarium and his own fame vanished in smoke! Lily was out of the question that night: she was bubbling over at every pore with unnatural excitement ... she was not Lily,—was not herself ... it meant certain death to her, the aerobike smashed to pieces, the end of all things! Lily would do it to-morrow, the next night; but not to-night.

He had just time to go to his dressing-room and put on his white sweater, black breeches, black stockings: an athletic costume which he always kept at the theater in case of need. And quick, in the saddle: the moment had come! He must succeed, now or never! And Jimmy, calm and sure of himself, took his seat on the aerobike. A great silence followed....

Lily, at that very minute, anxious at not being sent for in her dressing-room, was going back to the stage, but she was stopped at the top of the stairs by the stage-manager, who said that he had received an order by telephone from Cologne, from Harrasford: Lily not to perform that night....

"Let me pass," cried Lily, laughing in spite of everything. "That's enough of a joke. It's time for me to go on, I say! Are you mad? I tell you, it's my turn!"

But she ceased, as though struck by thunder. The aerobike, with wings wide open, was taking flight toward the stars, in a tempestuous wind.

It was done! The thing had shot past her very nose! She thought that she would fall, so great was the pain at her heart.

"No! No!" she gasped, with dilated eyes.

And, suddenly, she understood and uttered a cry of rage!

But she could have shouted, "Murder!" and it would have sounded as the buzzing of a bee amid that explosion of cheers. And the orchestra grew like a flame and the light appeared, increased and shone all over the house.

Lily flung herself back, closed her eyes so as not to see, fled to her dressing-room with a shriek like a wounded beast's....



CHAPTER V

She dropped into her chair, stopped up her ears; but the cheers never ceased, kept on increasing, filled the theater with a roar as of thunder! Oh, it seemed to her that her chest was on fire, that they were pounding her heart; that some one was taking her by the hair and banging her head against the walls! And that storm of applause kept on and kept on ... but it wasn't for her! It was for Jimmy all the time: they had tried it with her, that was all! To see if it worked! And she, she, she who, only just now, was giving herself airs with the others: a poor rag, yes, that was all she was, less than anybody; less than Tom, her old servant, less than Glass-Eye, that idiot, less than Ave Maria, less than a performing dog, less than anything, worse than anything, perhaps! Mad with rage she jumped at her gollywog, pulled down the white-eyed idol—the traitor!—spat on it, crushed it on the floor with her heel, furious, beside herself; and then dropped into her chair again, with her two arms flat on the table, her head between her arms, among the grease-paints, the powder, the overturned box of spangles, which rolled about everywhere and strewed the floor. She felt inclined to bite into her flesh to relieve herself, she clenched her fists and dug her nails into her skin. Oh, she would have liked to die, to die! It was so fierce a longing, so desperate a cry that the force of her prayer ought to have struck her dead where she sat. And suddenly the tears began to flow and she cried and cried, all convulsed with sobs, floored, shipwrecked, done for. She cried and cried, as though stupefied, saw nothing save through a thick veil of water, like a person drowning, sinking. It seemed to her as if the tears would groove her face, for always. Oh, what would she give to be at home, in bed! Never, never again would she have the strength to do a thing. She was done for, buried alive. And that coward of a Jimmy, to obey Harrasford's order! Oh, the harm he had done her! She would rather have died smashed to a jelly on the stage: she would have suffered less! Oh, to behave like that: to flash so much before her eyes; and then to fling her to the ground! Oh, when she had thought that he loved her and that she loved him also, perhaps! And Lily cried and cried....

* * * * *

Meanwhile, in front, the aerobike was receiving endless applause. The disappearance through the opening, the plunge into space, the star snatched from up above, that piece of theatrical symbolism filled the audience with enthusiasm. The aerobike brought down the house, its success surpassed all expectation, and the Astrarium was opening with a victorious clamor.

"Yes, but at what a cost!" said Jimmy to himself, in spite of the cheers.

And, as soon as he was able to escape, putting off for a few minutes his replies to the cards that poured in—the chairman of the Aero Club, journalists begging for interviews—Jimmy had but one idea, to console Lily for her disappointment of that evening: poor Lily!

His heart was beating very loudly as he went to her dressing-room. Jimmy was no longer the fellow who knew no fear. To fly away on the aerobike, to risk his skin was easy, for him at least; but to face Lily ... to explain to her ... with all those things seething within him ... and, oh, the pain he was causing her! How could he approach her after that? And could he ever get her to love him? Ah, perhaps it would have been better if he had gone and broken his neck in the street, on the pavement! Jimmy was trembling like a child; in his perturbation, he even forgot to knock at the door ... turned the knob ... entered....

Lily heard nothing, seemed crushed into her chair, with her face buried in her right arm folded on the table, while the left hung lifeless by her side. Her whole attitude expressed abject misery, profound despair; she seemed extinguished in a terrifying calmness.

Jimmy, to attract her attention, closed the door noisily. Lily stirred no more than a wax figure: one might have thought her dead.

He shivered; and, stepping forward, leaning over to her, anxiously, he placed his hand on her shoulder.

It was like a spring that is suddenly released! Lily threw up her sorrow-stricken face, down which the tears, mingling with the red paint, flowed like blood, looked at him for a few seconds with a wandering air and then leaped at him, as though she meant to bite him in the face; but her lips shriveled up in silence, nothing came from them; and she crushed Jimmy with an unspeakable look of terror and contempt.

Jimmy did not flinch:

"You must not be angry with me," he said gently. "I was bound to do it, Lily; I had to save the theater."

"And get rid of me!" cried Lily, wild-haired, hard-eyed, hoarse-throated, with the tears drying on her red-hot cheeks.

Jimmy was pale as death. Ah, all his dreams, too, were fading away!

"Lily," he said, in a voice which he strove to make firm, but which trembled with emotion. "I have done my duty to everybody, yourself included! But for me, you would be lying dead at this minute and the Astrarium would be ruined. You were not in a state to appear in public ... this evening ... believe me, Lily. The stage-manager himself...."

Lily lowered her head under his calm gaze....

"But you'll do it to-morrow," continued Jimmy, very quickly, "before Pa and Ma! To-morrow and the following days ... and always! Your name will be right at the top of the bill! Do you hear? To-morrow ... and always!"

"But what...? Why...?" asked Lily, as though stupefied.

"Poor Lily," he replied, gently raising that face all distorted with grief. "Poor little Lily! I have caused you a heap of pain."

Lily, for her sole answer, gave a convulsive sob; a tear leaped to her eyelids.

"Don't cry," whispered Jimmy, "don't cry any more. It will be your turn to-morrow, before the New Trickers. To-morrow! Every night!"

"Every night?" asked Lily, still incredulous and yet transfigured with hope. "You're saying that, Jimmy; but...."

"Do you doubt my word, Lily?" he replied, pressing her gently to him. "What, I, your best friend, your only friend ... I who ... haven't I always loved you, Lily? Do you think I've changed?... I love you more than ever I did! I will explain everything later. And you doubt me ... who would give my life for you; yes, life without you means nothing to me," continued Jimmy, in a stifled voice and clasping Lily in his arms.

Lily quivered in his embrace, hid her blushing features on his breast, where she heard great dull throbs. She trembled from head to foot. Her quickened senses seemed to perceive everything now; the passing indisposition from which she had suffered, without knowing it, the light fumes of the champagne: all that had suddenly gone, was far away; she had never felt more lucid; she saw, she understood and was overcome with delight, overcome with a delight beside which her enthusiasm of the previous day seemed dark and dreary. The ardor of her eighteen years swelled her breast. Success, in any case! To-morrow! And that man was hers, that heart was hers! It was a dream, an enchantment! Her head rolled back, a smile drew up her lips, her eyes, through her tangled curls, seemed all ablaze. Jimmy bent his glowing face over her. Lily, on the point of swooning, raised her lips to his.

Vanished around them the low ceiling, the scratched walls, the shabby rags. Standing on the wretched spangles that strewed the dusty floor, Lily, drunk with joy ... Jimmy, distraught with pride ... seemed like youth and love, in mid-sky, among the stars!

CURTAIN



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