At either side of the theatre was a space railed off and raised somewhat above the level of the general floor. This was reserved for women, and was well filled. In the pit sat a closely packed throng of men, all with hats upon their heads.
There were a great number of Caucasian visitors, drawn to the place by curiosity.
The stage was on a level with the raised portion reserved for women, and it was filled with actors, many of whom were richly dressed in oriental robes.
Instead of sitting in front of the stage, like an American orchestra, the musicians were on the stage.
As for scenery, there was none to speak of, save a few movable screens. It was not thought necessary to attempt to please the eye further than in the matter of costumes.
As no female actors are ever permitted on the stage of a Chinese theatre, the female rôles were played by youths, who were carefully made up for their parts.
The Chinese guide found seats for Frank and Jack, but retired himself to the back of the room, where he stood and waited till they should see enough of the show and wish to go.
The audience never applauded, although there was a quick rippling response to what seemed to be an occasional witty passage or clever situation.
But the musicians—the musicians wearied and tortured Jack Diamond’s soul. They were there to accentuate the emotional parts of the play, and they seemed bent upon doing their duty and doing it fully. At times they poured forth a maddening volume of sounds, and then they seemed to get weary and rest, with the exception of two or three stringed instruments, which sawed, and squeaked, and squawled, and growled, and muttered till the Virginian’s blood was cold and his hair standing like porcupine quills.
“Frightful! frightful!” he gasped.