Whether Wood mistrusted Jarrett, or whether after entering into partnership with him he mistrusted the success of the project, can never be decided; but it is certain that after securing Drury Lane Theatre for an operatic campaign, Mr. Wood repented of what he had done, and, unknown to Jarrett, entered into negotiations with Mr. Gye.
The advantages of an operatic monopoly were too obvious for Mr. Gye not to be anxious once more to secure it. This he was prepared to do, even at a considerable sacrifice; only it was I, his associate, not he himself, who was to make it. He proposed to me that Mr. George Wood should be taken into partnership, and that the profits for the season should be thus divided: Half to Gye, one quarter to Mapleson, one quarter to Wood. Mr. Gye was ready at that time to take in any number of partners who seemed in a position to threaten his justly-cherished monopoly, provided always that their share in the profits came to them out of my half, not out of his. For me the smallest fraction was deemed sufficient; he himself, however, could accept nothing less than a clear moiety.
After some amusing negotiations between Mr. Gye and myself, it was arranged that Mr. Wood should be taken into the concern on a basis of equal shares. Each, that is to say, was to receive one-third of the profits. The seceding artists, whose services we could not wish to lose—apart from the effect they might have in creating against us a formidable opposition—had all signed with Mr. Wood; and by the new arrangement these vocalists (Christine Nilsson, Mongini, Ilma de Murska, Trebelli, Faure, Santley, etc., with Arditi) were all to form part of the Royal Italian Opera Company. Our profits would still be large, though both Gye and myself would have to cede a portion of our gains to the new-comer.
Mr. Gye, Mr. Wood, and myself were all seated round a table in Mr. Gye's private room at Covent Garden Theatre, on the point of signing the contract which was to bind us together for the season of 1870, when suddenly a gentle tap at the door was heard, and, like "Edgardo" in the contract scene of Lucia, Jarrett appeared. He had, as he afterwards informed me, entirely lost sight of Mr. Wood, who was supposed to be out of town, gone abroad, anywhere except in London; whence, however, he had not stirred. Jarrett had not traced his slippery partner to the Royal Italian Opera. He assured me that having no indications whatever to act upon he had come there guided simply by instinct. He was a man whose instinct seldom misled him.
While Mr. Gye and myself were a little surprised at the sudden apparition, Mr. Wood was lost in confusion. Jarrett meanwhile was absolutely calm. Standing at the door, he took a pinch of snuff, and for a few moments remained silent. Then, addressing his partner, he simply said: "Mr. Wood, can I have a minute's conversation with you outside?" Mr. Wood rose, and left the room, but returned in less than a minute, when Gye whispered to me: "It is all right; he is sure to sign." But when he was asked to put his name to the document which only awaited his signature to constitute a perfect contract between him, Gye, and myself, he hesitated, spoke of the necessity in which he found himself of first consulting his friends, and finally did not sign.
The conversation which had taken place outside the room, as it was afterwards repeated to me by Jarrett, was short and simple.
"The singers you have engaged," said Jarrett, "are under contract to sing at Drury Lane, and nowhere else. If, then, you join Mapleson and Gye they will not come to you at Covent Garden, and you will have to pay their salaries whether you open at Drury Lane or not."
Wood could only reply that he would not sign with Mapleson and Gye.
There was no money made that season at the Royal Italian Opera; whilst Mr. Wood's season at Drury Lane was simply disastrous. The moneyed partner soon proposed to shut up; but Jarrett, to whom Mr. Wood was bound, would not hear of this.
"I have no more money," said Wood.