XXX. AT THE THEATRE ROYAL
In two or three days a message arrived asking them to attend at thetheatre on the coming evening, with the added request that they woulddress in their gayest clothes, to do justice to the places taken.Accordingly, in the course of the afternoon they drove off, Bob havingclothed himself in a splendid suit, recently purchased as an attempt tobring himself nearer to Anne's style when they appeared in publictogether. As finished off by this dashing and really fashionable attire,he was the perfection of a beau in the dog-days; pantaloons and boots ofthe newest make; yards and yards of muslin wound round his neck, forminga sort of asylum for the lower part of his face; two fancy waistcoats,and coat-buttons like circular shaving glasses. The absurd extreme offemale fashion, which was to wear muslin dresses in January, was at thistime equalled by that of the men, who wore clothes enough in August tomelt them. Nobody would have guessed from Bob's presentation now that hehad ever been aloft on a dark night in the Atlantic, or knew the hundredingenuities that could be performed with a rope's end and a marline-spikeas well as his mother tongue.
It was a day of days. Anne wore her celebrated celestial blue pelisse,her Leghorn hat, and her muslin dress with the waist under the arms; thelatter being decorated with excellent Honiton lace bought of the womanwho travelled from that place to Overcombe and its neighbourhood with abasketful of her own manufacture, and a cushion on which she worked bythe wayside. John met the lovers at the inn outside the town, and afterstabling the horse they entered the town together, the trumpet-majorinforming them that the watering-place had never been so full before,that the Court, the Prince of Wales, and everybody of consequence wasthere, and that an attic could scarcely be got for money. The King hadgone for a cruise in his yacht, and they would be in time to see himland.
Then drums and fifes were heard, and in a minute or two they saw SergeantStanner advancing along the street with a firm countenance, fiery poll,and rigid staring eyes, in front of his recruiting-party. The sergeant'ssword was drawn, and at intervals of two or three inches along itsshining blade were impaled fluttering one-pound notes, to express thelavish bounty that was offered. He gave a stern, suppressed nod offriendship to our people, and passed by. Next they came up to a waggon,bowered over with leaves and flowers, so that the men inside could hardlybe seen.
'Come to see the King, hip-hip hurrah!' cried a voice within, and turningthey saw through the leaves the nose and face of Cripplestraw. Thewaggon contained all Derriman's workpeople.
'Is your master here?' said John.
'No, trumpet-major, sir. But young maister is coming to fetch us at nineo'clock, in case we should be too blind to drive home.'
'O! where is he now?'
'Never mind,' said Anne impatiently, at which the trumpet-majorobediently moved on.
By the time they reached the pier it was six o'clock; the royal yacht wasreturning; a fact announced by the ships in the harbour firing a salute.The King came ashore with his hat in his hand, and returned thesalutations of the well-dressed crowd in his old indiscriminate fashion.While this cheering and waving of handkerchiefs was going on Anne stoodbetween the two brothers, who protectingly joined their hands behind herback, as if she were a delicate piece of statuary that a push mightdamage. Soon the King had passed, and receiving the military salutes ofthe piquet, joined the Queen and princesses at Gloucester Lodge, thehomely house of red brick in which he unostentatiously resided.
As there was yet some little time before the theatre would open, theystrayed upon the velvet sands, and listened to the songs of the sailors,one of whom extemporized for the occasion:--
'Portland Road the King aboard, the King aboard! Portland Road the King aboard, We weighed and sailed from Portland Road!' {272}
When they had looked on awhile at the combats at single-stick which werein progress hard by, and seen the sum of five guineas handed over to themodest gentleman who had broken most heads, they returned to GloucesterLodge, whence the King and other members of his family now reappeared,and drove, at a slow trot, round to the theatre in carriages drawn by theHanoverian white horses that were so well known in the town at this date.
When Anne and Bob entered the theatre they found that John had takenexcellent places, and concluded that he had got them for nothing throughthe influence of the lady of his choice. As a matter of fact he had paidfull prices for those two seats, like any other outsider, and even thenhad a difficulty in getting them, it being a King's night. When theywere settled he himself retired to an obscure part of the pit, from whichthe stage was scarcely visible.
'We can see beautifully,' said Bob, in an aristocratic voice, as he tooka delicate pinch of snuff, and drew out the magnificentpocket-handkerchief brought home from the East for such occasions. 'ButI am afraid poor John can't see at all.'
'But we can see him,' replied Anne, 'and notice by his face which of themit is he is so charmed with. The light of that corner candle falls rightupon his cheek.'
By this time the King had appeared in his place, which was overhung by acanopy of crimson satin fringed with gold. About twenty places wereoccupied by the royal family and suite; and beyond them was a crowd ofpowdered and glittering personages of fashion, completely filling thecentre of the little building; though the King so frequently patronizedthe local stage during these years that the crush was not inconvenient.
The curtain rose and the play began. To-night it was one of Colman's,who at this time enjoyed great popularity, and Mr. Bannister supportedthe leading character. Anne, with her hand privately clasped in Bob's,and looking as if she did not know it, partly watched the piece andpartly the face of the impressionable John who had so soon transferredhis affections elsewhere. She had not long to wait. When a certain oneof the subordinate ladies of the comedy entered on the stage the trumpet-major in his corner not only looked conscious, but started and gazed withparted lips.
'This must be the one,' whispered Anne quickly. 'See, he is agitated!'
She turned to Bob, but at the same moment his hand convulsively closedupon hers as he, too, strangely fixed his eyes upon the newly-enteredlady.
'What is it?'
Anne looked from one to the other without regarding the stage at all. Heranswer came in the voice of the actress who now spoke for the first time.The accents were those of Miss Matilda Johnson.
One thought rushed into both their minds on the instant, and Bob was thefirst to utter it.
'What--is she the woman of his choice after all?'
'If so, it is a dreadful thing!' murmured Anne.
But, as may be imagined, the unfortunate John was as much surprised bythis rencounter as the other two. Until this moment he had been in utterignorance of the theatrical company and all that pertained to it.Moreover, much as he knew of Miss Johnson, he was not aware that she hadever been trained in her youth as an actress, and that after lapsing intostraits and difficulties for a couple of years she had been so fortunateas to again procure an engagement here.
The trumpet-major, though not prominently seated, had been seen byMatilda already, who had observed still more plainly her old betrothedand Anne in the other part of the house. John was not concerned on hisown account at being face to face with her, but at the extraordinarysuspicion that this conjuncture must revive in the minds of his bestbeloved friends. After some moments of pained reflection he tapped hisknee.
'Gad, I won't explain; it shall go as it is!' he said. 'Let them thinkher mine. Better that than the truth, after all.'
Had personal prominence in the scene been at this moment proportioned tointentness of feeling, the whole audience, regal and otherwise, wouldhave faded into an indistinct mist of background, leaving as the soleemergent and telling figures Bob and Anne at one point, the trumpet-majoron the left hand, and Matilda at the opposite corner of the stage. Butfortunately the deadlock of awkward suspense into which all four hadfallen was terminated by an accident. A messenger entered the King's boxwith despatches. There was an instan
t pause in the performance. Thedespatch-box being opened the King read for a few moments with greatinterest, the eyes of the whole house, including those of Anne Garland,being anxiously fixed upon his face; for terrible events fell asunexpectedly as thunderbolts at this critical time of our history. TheKing at length beckoned to Lord ---, who was immediately behind him, theplay was again stopped, and the contents of the despatch were publiclycommunicated to the audience.
Sir Robert Calder, cruising off Finisterre, had come in sight ofVilleneuve, and made the signal for action, which, though checked by theweather, had resulted in the capture of two Spanish line-of-battle ships,and the retreat of Villeneuve into Ferrol.
The news was received with truly national feeling, if noise might betaken as an index of patriotism. 'Rule Britannia' was called for andsung by the whole house. But the importance of the event was far frombeing recognized at this time; and Bob Loveday, as he sat there and heardit, had very little conception how it would bear upon his destiny.
This parenthetic excitement diverted for a few minutes the eyes of Boband Anne from the trumpet-major; and when the play proceeded, and theylooked back to his corner, he was gone.
'He's just slipped round to talk to her behind the scenes,' said Bobknowingly. 'Shall we go too, and tease him for a sly dog?'
'No, I would rather not.'
'Shall we go home, then?'
'Not unless her presence is too much for you?'
'O--not at all. We'll stay here. Ah, there she is again.'
They sat on, and listened to Matilda's speeches which she delivered withsuch delightful coolness that they soon began to considerably interestone of the party.
'Well, what a nerve the young woman has!' he said at last in tones ofadmiration, and gazing at Miss Johnson with all his might. 'After all,Jack's taste is not so bad. She's really deuced clever.'
'Bob, I'll go home if you wish to,' said Anne quickly.
'O no--let us see how she fleets herself off that bit of a scrape she'splaying at now. Well, what a hand she is at it, to be sure!'
Anne said no more, but waited on, supremely uncomfortable, and almosttearful. She began to feel that she did not like life particularly well;it was too complicated: she saw nothing of the scene, and only longed toget away, and to get Bob away with her. At last the curtain fell on thefinal act, and then began the farce of 'No Song no Supper.' Matilda didnot appear in this piece, and Anne again inquired if they should go home.This time Bob agreed, and taking her under his care with redoubledaffection, to make up for the species of coma which had seized upon hisheart for a time, he quietly accompanied her out of the house.
When they emerged upon the esplanade, the August moon was shining acrossthe sea from the direction of St. Aldhelm's Head. Bob unconsciouslyloitered, and turned towards the pier. Reaching the end of the promenadethey surveyed the quivering waters in silence for some time, until a longdark line shot from behind the promontory of the Nothe, and swept forwardinto the harbour.
'What boat is that?' said Anne.
'It seems to be some frigate lying in the Roads,' said Bob carelessly, ashe brought Anne round with a gentle pressure of his arm and bent hissteps towards the homeward end of the town.
Meanwhile, Miss Johnson, having finished her duties for that evening,rapidly changed her dress, and went out likewise. The prominent positionwhich Anne and Captain Bob had occupied side by side in the theatre, lefther no alternative but to suppose that the situation was arranged by Bobas a species of defiance to herself; and her heart, such as it was,became proportionately embittered against him. In spite of the rise inher fortunes, Miss Johnson still remembered--and always wouldremember--her humiliating departure from Overcombe; and it had been toher even a more grievous thing that Bob had acquiesced in his brother'sruling than that John had determined it. At the time of setting out shewas sustained by a firm faith that Bob would follow her, and nullify hisbrother's scheme; but though she waited Bob never came.
She passed along by the houses facing the sea, and scanned the shore, thefootway, and the open road close to her, which, illuminated by theslanting moon to a great brightness, sparkled with minute facets ofcrystallized salts from the water sprinkled there during the day. Thepromenaders at the further edge appeared in dark profiles; and beyondthem was the grey sea, parted into two masses by the tapering braid ofmoonlight across the waves.
Two forms crossed this line at a startling nearness to her; she markedthem at once as Anne and Bob Loveday. They were walking slowly, and inthe earnestness of their discourse were oblivious of the presence of anyhuman beings save themselves. Matilda stood motionless till they hadpassed.
'How I love them!' she said, treading the initial step of her walkonwards with a vehemence that walking did not demand.
'So do I--especially one,' said a voice at her elbow; and a man wheeledround her, and looked in her face, which had been fully exposed to themoon.
'You--who are you?' she asked.
'Don't you remember, ma'am? We walked some way together towardsOvercombe earlier in the summer.' Matilda looked more closely, andperceived that the speaker was Derriman, in plain clothes. He continued,'You are one of the ladies of the theatre, I know. May I ask why yousaid in such a queer way that you loved that couple?'
'In a queer way?'
'Well, as if you hated them.'
'I don't mind your knowing that I have good reason to hate them. You dotoo, it seems?'
'That man,' said Festus savagely, 'came to me one night about that verywoman; insulted me before I could put myself on my guard, and ran awaybefore I could come up with him and avenge myself. The woman tricks meat every turn! I want to part 'em.'
'Then why don't you? There's a splendid opportunity. Do you see thatsoldier walking along? He's a marine; he looks into the gallery of thetheatre every night: and he's in connexion with the press-gang that cameashore just now from the frigate lying in Portland Roads. They are oftenhere for men.'
'Yes. Our boatmen dread 'em.'
'Well, we have only to tell him that Loveday is a seaman to be clear ofhim this very night.'
'Done!' said Festus. 'Take my arm and come this way.' They walkedacross to the footway. 'Fine night, sergeant.'
'It is, sir.'
'Looking for hands, I suppose?'
'It is not to be known, sir. We don't begin till half past ten.'
'It is a pity you don't begin now. I could show 'ee excellent game.'
'What, that little nest of fellows at the "Old Rooms" in Cove Row? Ihave just heard of 'em.'
'No--come here.' Festus, with Miss Johnson on his arm, led the sergeantquickly along the parade, and by the time they reached the Narrows thelovers, who walked but slowly, were visible in front of them. 'There'syour man,' he said.
'That buck in pantaloons and half-boots--a looking like a squire?'
'Twelve months ago he was mate of the brig Pewit; but his father has mademoney, and keeps him at home.'
'Faith, now you tell of it, there's a hint of sea legs about him. What'sthe young beau's name?'
'Don't tell!' whispered Matilda, impulsively clutching Festus's arm.
But Festus had already said, 'Robert Loveday, son of the miller atOvercombe. You may find several likely fellows in that neighbourhood.'
The marine said that he would bear it in mind, and they left him.
'I wish you had not told,' said Matilda tearfully. 'She's the worst!'
'Dash my eyes now; listen to that! Why, you chicken-hearted old stager,you was as well agreed as I. Come now; hasn't he used you badly?'
Matilda's acrimony returned. 'I was down on my luck, or he wouldn't havehad the chance!' she said.
'Well, then, let things be.'