He finished. It was over, and then, realizing what he had done, he tottered off the stage.
Then the audience applauded long and loud, trying to call him back again; but behind the scenes he had fallen into Frank Merriwell’s arms, faintly murmuring:
“It is finished!”
Frank bore the man to a dressing room. The play went on to the end without a break, but it was not necessary for Burns to enter again.
When the curtain fell on the final act, Havener came hurrying to Merry:
“Burns wants to see you in the dressing room,” he said. “You had better come at once.”
Frank went there. The moment he saw the old actor, who was reclining on some rugs, his face ashen, his eyes looking dim and sunken still deeper into his head, Frank said:
“Somebody go for a doctor at once!”
He knelt beside the man, and the old actor murmured:
“It is useless to go for a doctor. I heard you tell them, but it is—no use. I told you—my heart—was broken. I spoke the—truth. It broke my heart when I—had to—burlesque——”