I heard Sigrid's clear voice, calling me to the stage door. Pursuivant and I shook hands quickly and warmly, like team-mates just before a hard game, and we went together to the lodge.
Entering, I made my way at once to the property table. The sword still lay there, and I put out my hand for it.
"What do you want?" asked Elmo Davidson behind me.
"I thought I'd take the sword into my dressing-room."
"It's a prop, Connatt. Leave it right where it is."
I turned and looked at him. "I'd rather have it with me," I said doggedly.
"You're being foolish," he told me sharply, and there is hardly any doubt but that I sounded so to him. "What if I told Varduk about this?"
"Go and tell him, if you like. Tell him also that I won't go on tonight if you're going to order me around." I said this as if I meant it, and he relaxed his commanding pose.
"Oh, go ahead. And for heaven's sake calm your nerves."
I took the weapon and bore it away. In my room I found my costume for the first act already laid out on two chairs—either Davidson or Jake had done that for me. Quickly I rubbed color into my cheeks, lined my brows and eyelids, affixed fluffy side-whiskers to my jaws. The mirror showed me a set, pale face, and I put on rather more make-up than I generally use. My hands trembled as I donned gleaming slippers of patent leather, fawn-colored trousers that strapped under the insteps, a frilled shirt and flowing necktie, a flowered waistcoat and a bottle-green frock coat with velvet facings and silver buttons. My hair was long enough to be combed into a wavy sweep back from my brow.