CHAPTER VII.
DANGER AHEAD.
Meantime the preparations for the theatricals went on rapidly. Mr. Robinson came down the next day, and found his amateur troupe duly drawn up for inspection. Not one of them, however, was word-perfect, in spite of their diligent study, singly or in couples, except Mdlle. Lamien and Mr. Tremain, to neither of whom did the text present any difficulties.
Much to Philip's surprise, Mdlle. Lamien proved but an indifferent actress; she recited her lines without a mistake, but that was all that could be said in praise of her. She was dull, apathetic, heavy, made no effort to throw life or emotion into her part, and was, indeed, so studiously indifferent, that Mr. Robinson took no trouble to either remonstrate with or contradict her, knowing her to be but a substitute, and feeling perfectly sure of the real impersonator, who had been trained untiringly by him, and had made her début as his favourite pupil.
Mdlle. Lamien made it so very apparent that she only appeared in obedience to Mrs. Newbold's request, that Philip found acting up to her not only laborious, but ridiculous, and consequently shirked his scenes with her as much as possible, though not without wondering at the strange contradictions of which her character seemed formed.
The days were drawing on now, and only three remained before that one which, as Dick Darling remarked, "they were to so appropriately celebrate—George's birthday, with George left very much out of it." Now that Philip knew Patricia was not expected until the very morning of the all-important day, he put away from him all thought of meeting her, and, with a suddenly developed gaiety, joined heart and soul in the frivolities of the hour.
The day before the great event, however, something happened which threatened to deprive the company of Henri's personation, and which for the moment, threw even the theatricals in the shade. A letter written by Mr. Tremain to his one intimate man friend best explains the situation:
"The Folly,
"April, 188—."Dear Mainwaring,
"Here I am with a strained wrist and a halo of heroism. The first is uncomfortable, the second undeserved. No doubt you will receive a garbled account of what has occurred, and a highly-coloured report of my 'heroic action and wonderful presence of mind'—the words are Miss James's, not mine. Well, then, to save your brain a shock, and your friendship a blow, I send off these somewhat unintelligible lines. I don't want you repeating the tale, with mock heroics, at the club and about town, and I know your fondness for a good story.
"Let me say then, as a premise, that whatever of bravery or heroism was displayed, at a somewhat critical moment in a commonplace incident, belongs solely to Mdlle. Lamien, Mimi's governess; and, by-the-bye, I don't know but that it is just at these commonplace times that one's nerve and resolution are most often put to the test.
"Here are the facts: Mrs. Newbold has a pair of new ponies, George's latest gift, and her last fad; she drove me up with them the day I arrived, and I didn't care for their style particularly, they pulled too hard, and had an obstinate trick of catching at the bit that might prove nasty. Esther's groom on these occasions is Tony, elected, presumably, because of the smallness of his stature. You have seen Tony, and therefore know that he is mostly hat.
"Very well, this morning being bright and cool, Mrs. Newbold decided to take little Marianne and Cissy Beverley for a drive; it was in vain both George and I pointed out to her that the ponies had not been exercised for the last two days, and would therefore be very fresh and too great a handful for her, she would not listen—her sex never will, you know, when advice runs against inclination—and woman-like, she must play with her latest toy.
"So off they started, the children tucked in beside Mrs. Newbold, and Tony perched up behind. The little brutes were fresh enough, but Esther had them well in hand, and drove off in true workmanlike style. They had their drive, along the upper road, and round by the Bay, and so through the town to Beverley's house. Here Mrs. Newbold got out, letting Marianne hold the reins, with Tony at the ponies' heads. She lifted Cissy down, and was just turning to give a word of caution, when a cat, followed by Beverley's setter pup, ran out from the kitchen garden and flew directly under the ponies' heads.
"Then came a sudden shying movement, the light carriage swayed dangerously, and then, with tossing heads, the little brutes broke loose from Tony's hold, took the bits between their teeth, and in a second were off on a dead run.
"You will admit it was not a pleasant situation for Esther. She has since told me that her first intimation of danger was the sight of her darling's bright sunny hair and frightened blue eyes being borne away in the rocking, swaying carriage, as it sped down the drive, drawn by horses wild and young.
"They passed the gate safely, and started off down the Terrace at a full gallop. And now my part comes in. I was walking leisurely up from the post-office when, as I neared Snug Harbour, I saw the ponies dashing towards me; in a second I recognised them; in that second they were past me. I started after them, but with a feeling of hopelessness, for who could hope to come up with their flying feet? And though the road was broad and open for several miles, little Marianne—whose piteous white face caught my eye as she was borne by me—might at any moment loose her hold and be dashed out, or dragged in the trailing reins.
"I put on what speed I could, and as I reached a slight curve in the road, beyond which the ponies would be lost to sight, a woman flew through an open gate and threw herself directly in front of the frightened animals.
"Thus checked for a second, I saw her measure the distance with a glance, then jump and catch the bridle with one hand, flinging all her weight upon it and never letting go, though the little brutes dragged her several rods. To reach her side and add my strength to hers was but the work of a moment; the ponies, easily tired, submitted to my soothing voice and hand, while little Marianne, who throughout had behaved like a heroine, now covered herself with glory, by stepping deliberately out of the carriage and throwing her arms about the tall, dark figure beside her.
"I turned then to face my brave companion; it was, as I suspected, Mdlle. Lamien, who stood there, calm and unmoved, the heavy lace of her veil concealing whatever emotion her face might have revealed. It was she, and no other, who had risked her own life to save the child; and yet, Mainwaring, I declare to you solemnly and in all calmness, it was not of her I thought as we stood together side by side; it was not her personality that seemed so near me, nor her spirit that had carried out so brave a rescue. Laugh at me if you will, suggest hysteria and nerves; so be it, I accept the taunt, and repeat again, it was not Mdlle. Lamien who made captive my admiration and esteem—it was Patricia Hildreth. Explain it as best you can. I do but repeat, it was Patricia who dominated me then; Patricia who seemingly stood so close, I had but to put out my hand to touch her,—and yet—it was Mdlle. Lamien who replied coldly to my inquiries, and who walked swiftly away, leaving me with Marianne, and the now quiet horses.
"Strange to say, neither she nor the child have received any injuries, and I have escaped with a strained wrist—my left one—which will not incapacitate me for to-morrow; indeed, a Henri de Flavigneul with a sling will be a new departure, and ought to prove what Miss Darling would call 'very fetching.'
"By the way, you come down, I believe, for the play; did I tell you Patricia will also be here? I think in many ways this place grows dangerous, and I shall return to my own den, as soon as the theatricals are over.
"As ever, old friend, yours faithfully,
"Philip Tremain."
But if Mr. Tremain was inclined to treat thus lightly his share in Marianne's rescue, the others refused to look at it in so trivial a light. Esther, with tears in her eyes, took both his hands and thanked him with a tremulous smile.
"I shall never forget it, Philip, never," she said, and turned away to hide the falling drops.