Castles in the Air

  2.

  The next performance of _Le Reve_ was announced for the followingevening, and I started on my campaign. As you may imagine, it did notprove an easy matter. To obtain access through the stage-door to theback of the theatre was one thing--a franc to the doorkeeper had donethe trick--to mingle with the scene-shifters, to talk with the supers,to take off my hat with every form of deep respect to the principalshad been equally simple.

  I had even succeeded in placing a bouquet on the dressing-table of thegreat tragedienne on my second visit to the theatre. Her dressing-roomdoor had been left ajar during that memorable fourth act which was tosee the consummation of my labours. I had the bouquet in my hand,having brought it expressly for that purpose. I pushed open the door,and found myself face to face with a young though somewhat forbiddingdamsel, who peremptorily demanded what my business might be.

  In order to minimise the risk of subsequent trouble, I had assumed thedisguise of a middle-aged Angliche--red side-whiskers, floridcomplexion, a ginger-coloured wig plastered rigidly over the earstowards the temples, high stock collar, nankeen pantaloons, a patchover one eye and an eyeglass fixed in the other. My own sainted motherwould never have known me.

  With becoming diffidence I explained in broken French that my deepthough respectful admiration of Mlle. Mars had prompted me to lay afloral tribute at her feet. I desired nothing more.

  The damsel eyed me coldly, though at the moment I was looking quite mybest, diffident yet courteous, a perfect gentleman of the old regime.Then she took the bouquet from me and put it down on thedressing-table.

  I fancied that she smiled, not unkindly, and I ventured to pass thetime of day. She replied not altogether disapprovingly. She sat downby the dressing-table and took up some needlework which she hadobviously thrown aside on my arrival. Close by, on the floor, was asolid iron chest with huge ornamental hinges and a large escutcheonover the lock. It stood about a foot high and perhaps a couple of feetlong.

  There was nothing else in the room that suggested a receptacle forjewellery; this, therefore, was obviously the safe which contained thebracelet. At the self-same second my eyes alighted on a large andclumsy-looking key which lay upon the dressing-table, and my hand atonce wandered instinctively to the pocket of my coat and closedconvulsively on the duplicate one which the soi-disant Jean Duval hadgiven me.

  I talked eloquently for a while. The damsel answered in monosyllables,but she sat unmoved at needlework, and after ten minutes or so I wasforced to beat a retreat.

  I returned to the charge at the next performance of _Le Reve_, thistime with a box of bonbons for the maid instead of the bouquet for themistress. The damsel was quite amenable to a little conversation,quite willing that I should dally in her company. She munched thebonbons and coquetted a little with me. But she went on stolidly withher needlework, and I could see that nothing would move her out ofthat room, where she had obviously been left in charge.

  Then I bethought me of Theodore. I realised that I could not carrythis affair through successfully without his help. So I gave him afurther five francs--as I said to him it was out of my ownsavings--and I assured him that a certain M. Jean Duval had promisedme a couple of hundred francs when the business which he had entrustedto me was satisfactorily concluded. It was for this business--so Iexplained--that I required his help, and he seemed quite satisfied.

  His task was, of course, a very easy one. What a contrast to the riskI was about to run! Twenty-five francs, my dear Sir, just for knockingat the door of Mlle. Mars' dressing-room during the fourth act, whilstI was engaged in conversation with the attractive guardian of the ironsafe, and to say in well-assumed, breathless tones:

  "Mademoiselle Mars has been taken suddenly unwell on the stage.Will her maid go to her at once?"

  It was some little distance from the dressing-room to the wings--downa flight of ill-lighted stone stairs which demanded cautious ascentand descent. Theodore had orders to obstruct the maid during herprogress as much as he could without rousing her suspicions.

  I reckoned that she would be fully three minutes going, questioning,finding out that the whole thing was a hoax, and running back to thedressing-room--three minutes in which to open the chest, extract thebracelet and, incidentally, anything else of value there might beclose to my hand. Well, I had thought of that eventuality, too; onemust think of everything, you know--that is where genius comes in.Then, if possible, relock the safe, so that the maid, on her return,would find everything apparently in order and would not, perhaps,raise the alarm until I was safely out of the theatre.

  It could be done--oh, yes, it could be done--with a minute to spare!And to-morrow at ten o'clock M. Jean Duval would appear, and I wouldnot part with the bracelet until a thousand francs had passed from hispocket into mine. I must get Theodore out of the house, by the way,before the arrival of M. Duval.

  A thousand francs! I had not seen a thousand francs all at once foryears. What a dinner I would have tomorrow! There was a certain littlerestaurant in the Rue des Pipots where they concocted a cassolette ofgoose liver and pork chops with haricot beans which . . . ! I onlytell you that.

  How I got through the rest of that day I cannot tell you. The eveningfound me--quite an habitue now--behind the stage of the TheatreRoyal, nodding to one or two acquaintances, most of the people lookingon me with grave respect and talking of me as the eccentric milor. Iwas supposed to be pining for an introduction to the greattragedienne, who, very exclusive as usual, had so far given me thecold shoulder.

  Ten minutes after the rise of the curtain on the fourth act I was inthe dressing-room, presenting the maid with a gold locket which I hadbought from a cheapjack's barrow for five and twenty francs--almostthe last of the fifty which I had received from M. Duval on account.The damsel was eyeing the locket somewhat disdainfully and giving megrudging thanks for it when there came a hurried knock at the door.The next moment Theodore poked his ugly face into the room. He, too,had taken the precaution of assuming an excellent disguise--peaked capset aslant over one eye, grimy face, the blouse of a scene-shifter.

  "Mlle. Mars," he gasped breathlessly; "she has been taken ill--on thestage--very suddenly. She is in the wings--asking for her maid. Theythink she will faint."

  The damsel rose, visibly frightened.

  "I'll come at once," she said, and without the slightest flurry shepicked up the key of the safe and slipped it into her pocket. Ifancied that she gave me a look as she did this. Oh, she was a pearlamong Abigails! Then she pointed unceremoniously to the door.

  "Milor!" was all she said, but of course I understood. I had no ideathat English milors could be thus treated by pert maidens. But whatcared I for social amenities just then? My hand had closed over theduplicate key of the safe, and I walked out of the room in the wake ofthe damsel. Theodore had disappeared.

  Once in the passage, the girl started to run. A second or two laterI heard the patter of her high-heeled shoes down the stone stairs. Ihad not a moment to lose.

  To slip back into the dressing-room was but an instant's work. Thenext I was kneeling in front of the chest. The key fitted the lockaccurately; one turn, and the lid flew open.

  The chest was filled with a miscellaneous collection of theatricalproperties all lying loose--showy necklaces, chains, pendants, all ofthem obviously false; but lying beneath them, and partially hidden bythe meretricious ornaments, were one or two boxes covered with velvetsuch as jewellers use. My keen eyes noted these at once. I was indeedin luck! For the moment, however, my hand fastened on a leather casewhich reposed on the top in one corner, and which very obviously, fromits shape, contained a bracelet. My hands did not tremble, though Iwas quivering with excitement. I opened the case. There, indeed, wasthe bracelet--the large green stones, the magnificent gold setting,the whole jewel dazzlingly beautiful. If it were real--the thoughtflashed through my mind--it would be indeed priceless. I closed thecase and put it on the dressing-table beside me. I had at leastanother minute to spare--sixty seconds wherein to dive for t
hosevelvet-covered boxes which-- My hand was on one of them when a slightnoise caused me suddenly to turn and to look behind me. It all happenedas quickly as a flash of lightning. I just saw a man disappearingthrough the door. One glance at the dressing-table showed me the wholeextent of my misfortune. The case containing the bracelet had gone, andat that precise moment I heard a commotion from the direction of thestairs and a woman screaming at the top of her voice: "Thief! Stopthief!"

  Then, Sir, I brought upon the perilous situation that presence of mindfor which the name of Hector Ratichon will for ever remain famous.Without a single flurried movement, I slipped one of thevelvet-covered cases which I still had in my hand into the breastpocket of my coat, I closed down the lid of the iron chest and lockedit with the duplicate key, and I went out of the room, closing thedoor behind me.

  The passage was dark. The damsel was running up the stairs with acouple of stage hands behind her. She was explaining to them volubly,and to the accompaniment of sundry half-hysterical little cries, theinfamous hoax to which she had fallen a victim. You might think, Sir,that here was I caught like a rat in a trap, and with thatvelvet-covered case in my breast pocket by way of damning evidenceagainst me!

  Not at all, Sir! Not at all! Not so is Hector Ratichon, the keenestsecret agent France has ever known, the confidant of kings, brought toearth by an untoward move of fate. Even before the damsel and thestage hands had reached the top of the stairs and turned into thecorridor, which was on my left, I had slipped round noiselessly to myright and found shelter in a narrow doorway, where I was screened bythe surrounding darkness and by a projection of the frame. While thethree of them made straight for Mademoiselle's dressing-room, andspent some considerable time there in uttering varied ejaculationswhen they found the place and the chest to all appearances untouched,I slipped out of my hiding-place, sped rapidly along the corridor, andwas soon half-way down the stairs.

  Here my habitual composure in the face of danger stood me in goodstead. It enabled me to walk composedly and not too hurriedly throughthe crowd behind the scenes--supers, scene-shifters, principals, noneof whom seemed to be aware as yet of the hoax practised onMademoiselle Mars' maid; and I reckon that I was out of the stage doorexactly five minutes after Theodore had called the damsel away.

  But I was minus the bracelet, and in my mind there was the firmconviction that that traitor Theodore had played me one of hisabominable tricks. As I said, the whole thing had occurred as quicklyas a flash of lightning, but even so my keen, experienced eyes hadretained the impression of a peaked cap and the corner of a blueblouse as they disappeared through the dressing-room door.