Michael
in, the whole of the crowded house stood up and broke into a roarof recognition and loyalty.
For a minute, or perhaps more, the Emperor stood facing the house withhis hand raised in salute, a figure the uprightness of which made himlook tall. His brilliant uniform was ablaze with decorations; he seemedevery inch a soldier and a leader of men. For that minute he stoodlooking neither to the right nor left, stern and almost frowning, withno shadow of a smile playing on the tightly-drawn lips, above which hismoustache was brushed upwards in two stiff protuberances towards hiseyes. He was there just then not to see, but to be seen, his incognitowas momentarily in abeyance, and he stood forth the supreme head of hispeople, the All-highest War Lord, who had come that day from thefield, to which he would return across half Germany tomorrow. It was animpressive and dignified moment, and Michael heard Falbe say to himself:"Kaiserlich! Kaiserlich!"
Then it was over. The Emperor sat down, beckoned to two of his officers,who had stood in a group far at the back of the box, to join him, andwith one on each side he looked about the house and chatted to them. Hehad taken out his opera-glass, which he adjusted, using his right handonly, and looked this way and that, as if, incognito again, he waslooking for friends in the house. Once Michael thought that he lookedrather long and fixedly in his direction, and then, putting down hisglass, he said something to one of the officers, this time clearlypointing towards Michael. Then he gave some signal, just raising hishand towards the orchestra, and immediately the lights were put down,the whole house plunged in darkness, except where the lamps in the sunkorchestra faintly illuminated the base of the curtain, and the firstlonging, unsatisfied notes of the prelude began.
The next hour passed for Michael in one unbroken mood of absorption. Thesupreme moment of knowing the music intimately and of never having seenthe opera before was his, and all that he had dreamed of or imaginedas to the possibilities of music was flooded and drowned in the thingitself. You could not say that it was more gigantic than The Ring, morehuman than the Meistersingers, more emotional than Parsifal, but itwas utterly and wholly different to anything else he had ever seen orconjectured. Falbe, he himself, the thronged and silent theatre, theEmperor, Munich, Germany, were all blotted out of his consciousness.He just watched, as if discarnate, the unrolling of the decrees of Fatewhich were to bring so simple and overpowering a tragedy on the two whodrained the love-potion together. And at the end he fell back in hisseat, feeling thrilled and tired, exhilarated and exhausted.
"Oh, Hermann," he said, "what years I've wasted!"
Falbe laughed.
"You've wasted more than you know yet," he said. "Hallo!"
A very resplendent officer had come clanking down the gangway next them.He put his heels together and bowed.
"Lord Comber, I think?" he said in excellent English.
Michael roused himself.
"Yes?" he said.
"His Imperial Majesty has done me the honour to desire you to come andspeak to him," he said.
"Now?" said Michael.
"If you will be so good," and he stood aside for Michael to pass up thestairs in front of him.
In the wide corridor behind he joined him again.
"Allow me to introduce myself as Count von Bergmann," he said, "andone of His Majesty's aides-de-camp. The Kaiser always speaks withgreat pleasure of the visits he has paid to your father, and he saw youimmediately he came into the theatre. If you will permit me, I wouldadvise you to bow, but not very low, respecting His Majesty's incognito,to seat yourself as soon as he desires it, and to remain till he givesyou some speech of dismissal. Forgive me for going in front of you here.I have to introduce you to His Majesty's presence."
Michael followed him down the steps to the front of the box.
"Lord Comber, All-highest," he said, and instantly stood back.
The Emperor rose and held out his hand, and Michael, bowing over it ashe took it, felt himself seized in the famous grip of steel, of whichits owner as well as its recipient was so conscious.
"I am much pleased to see you, Lord Comber," said he. "I could notresist the pleasure of a little chat with you about our beloved England.And your excellent father, how is he?"
He indicated a chair to Michael, who, as advised, instantly took it,though the Emperor remained a moment longer standing.
"I left him in very good health, Your Majesty," said Michael.
"Ah! I am glad to hear it. I desire you to convey to him my friendliestgreetings, and to your mother also. I well remember my last visit tohis house above the tidal estuary at Ashbridge, and I hope it may not bevery long before I have the opportunity to be in England again."
He spoke in a voice that seemed rather hoarse and tired, but his mannerexpressed the most courteous cordiality. His face, which had been asstill as a statue's when he showed himself to the house, was now neverin repose for a moment. He kept turning his head, which he carried veryupright, this way and that as he spoke; now he would catch sight ofsomeone in the audience to whom he directed his glance, now he wouldpeer over the edge of the low balustrade, now look at the group ofofficers who stood apart at the back of the box.
His whole demeanour suggested a nervous, highly-strung condition; therestlessness of it was that of a man overstrained, who had lost thecapability of being tranquil. Now he frowned, now he smiled, but neverfor a moment was he quiet. Then he launched a perfect hailstorm ofquestions at Michael, to the answers to which (there was scarcely timefor more than a monosyllable in reply) he listened with an eager anda suspicious attention. They were concerned at first with all sorts ofsubjects: inquired if Michael had been at Baireuth, what he was going todo after the Munich festival was over, if he had English friendshere. He inquired Falbe's name, looked at him for a moment through hisglasses, and desired to know more about him. Then, learning he was ateacher of the piano in England, and had a sister who sang, he expressedgreat satisfaction.
"I like to see my subjects, when there is no need for their services athome," he said, "learning about other lands, and bringing also to otherlands the culture of the Fatherland, even as it always gives me pleasureto see the English here, strengthening by the study of the arts thebonds that bind our two great nations together. You English mustlearn to understand us and our great mission, just as we must learn tounderstand you."
Then the questions became more specialised, and concerned the stateof things in England. He laughed over the disturbances created by theSuffragettes, was eager to hear what politicians thought about the stateof things in Ireland, made specific inquiries about the TerritorialForce, asked about the Navy, the state of the drama in London, the coalstrike which was threatened in Yorkshire. Then suddenly he put a seriesof personal questions.
"And you, you are in the Guards, I think?" he said.
"No, sir; I have just resigned my commission," said Michael.
"Why? Why is that? Have many of your officers been resigning?"
"I am studying music, Your Majesty," said Michael.
"I am glad to see you came to Germany to do it. Berlin? You ought tospend a couple of months in Berlin. Perhaps you are thinking of doingso."
He turned round quickly to one of his staff who had approached him.
"Well, what is it?" he said.
Count von Bergmann bowed low.
"The Herr-Director," he said, "humbly craves to know whether it is YourMajesty's pleasure that the opera shall proceed."
The Kaiser laughed.
"There, Lord Comber," he said, "you see how I am ordered about. Theywish to cut short my conversation with you. Yes, Bergmann, we will goon. You will remain with me, Lord Comber, for this act."
Immediately after the lights were lowered again, the curtain rose, anda most distracting hour began for Michael. His neighbour was never stillfor a single moment. Now he would shift in his chair, now with his handhe would beat time on the red velvet balustrade in front of him, and astream of whispered appreciation and criticism flowed from him.
"They are taking the opening scene a
little too slow," he said. "I shallcall the director's attention to that. But that crescendo is well done;yes, that is most effective. The shawl--observe the beautiful linesinto which the shawl falls as she waves it. That is wonderful--a veryimpressive entry. Ah, but they should not cross the stage yet; it ismore effective if they remain longer there. Brangane sings finely; shewarns them that the doom is near."
He gave a little giggle, which reminded Michael of his father.
"Brangane is playing gooseberry, as you say in England," he said. "A biggooseberry, is she not? Ah, bravo! bravo! Wunderschon! Yes, enter KingMark from his hunting. Very fine. Say I was particularly pleased withthe entry of King Mark, Bergmann. A wonderful act! Wagner never touchedgreater heights."
At the end the Emperor rose and again