“That is really charming,” the king said to me. “But, Monsieur Robert-Houdin,” he added, in a confidential tone, “you must have given your writer instructions in the poetic art?”
“Yes, sire, as far as my weak powers permitted.”
“Then my compliment is merited more by the master than the pupil.”
I bowed to thank the king as much for his compliment as for the delicate manner in which it was conveyed.
“Now then, Monsieur Robert-Houdin,” Louis Philippe continued, “I see by the notice attached to this automaton that it is a draughtsman, in addition to its merits as a writer and poet. If it be so, come,” he said, addressing the Comte de Paris, “choose your own subject for a drawing.”
Thinking to cause the prince an agreeable surprise, I had recourse to palmistry to influence his decision, and he, consequently selected a crown. The automaton began drawing the outline of this regal ornament with great skill, and every one followed its movements with interest, when, to my great disappointment, the point of the draughtsman’s pencil broke, and the crown could not be finished. I was going to recommence the experiment, when the king declined, with thanks.
“As you have learned to draw,” he said to the Comte de Paris, “you can finish this for yourself.”
This performance, besides being the prelude of the kindly interest the Orleans family afterwards displayed towards me, probably exerted some influence on the decision of the jury, which granted me a silver medal.
CHAPTER XIII.
My proposed Reforms—I build a Theatre in the Palais Royal—Formalities—General Rehearsal—Singular Effect of my Performance—The Largest and Smallest Theatre in Paris—Tribulation—My first Performance—Panic—Discouragement—A Fallible Prophet—Recovery—Success.