For three days this trivial circumstance gave food to the government papers; then it became the absolute property of the accredited wit or fun journals, which put into the mouths of the Hungarians all manner of things which they had never said. Never mind; those excellent men couldn't read German, so it didn't matter. They stuck fast to their arm-chairs in the gallery as long as the sitting lasted; they were more comfortable than their beds.
The last evening of their stay they were taken to the theatre. Not to the Burg Theatre—that would not do for them—but to the Treumann Theatre, where a piece was playing suitable for them, with plenty of fun, singing, dancing, laughing; and the great joke of all was that the principal part was to be played by the beautiful Eveline, Frau von Kaulmann. Will Peter Saffran recognize her?
It had not been possible to get an engagement at the Opera-house for Eveline, for there was an Italian season running. When it finished there would be a prospect of an engagement for her if she first learned the routine of acting at some less important theatre, and grew accustomed to the footlights. Therefore, she played en amateur on the boards of the Treumann Theatre. Her natural gifts and her extraordinary beauty caused a sensation. The jeunesse dorée went mad over this new favorite of the hour. The piece which was played in honor of the peasants was one of Offenbach's frivolous operas, in which the ladies appear in the very scantiest of costumes. The noble portion of the audience enjoy these displays more than do the poorer; it did not, at all events, amuse the simple folk in Halina cloth. The ballet, with the lightly clothed nymphs, their coquettish movements, their seductive smiles, their bold display of limbs, and their short petticoats, was not to the taste of the Bondavara miners. It was true that the girls in the coal-pit wore no petticoats to speak of, but then they were working. Who thought anything of that? Chivalry belongs to the peasant as much as to the gentleman; the former indeed practise the motto, "Honi soit qui mal y pense" more than do their better-educated superiors. But now as Eveline entered they felt ashamed. She came on as a fairy or goddess, concealed in gold-colored clouds; the clouds were, however, transparent. Peter glowed with rage to think all the world could penetrate this slight transparency; he burned with jealous fury as Eveline smiled, coquetted, cast glances here, there, and was stared at through a hundred opera-glasses. Peter forgot that this was only a stage, and that the fairies who played their parts upon it for an hour or so were many of them most virtuous women, excellent wives and daughters; for what happens on the stage is only play, not actuality. The former bridegroom did not reason in this wise. You see, he was an uneducated peasant in coarse Halina cloth, and his ignorant mind was filled with horror, disgust, rage. That she should allow herself to be kissed, to be made love to—shame! No, my good Peter, it was no shame, but a great honor. Out of the boxes bouquets and wreaths fell on the stage; there was hardly a place where she could put her feet; it was all flowers. The house resounded with applause. This was not shame, but honor—certainly not of the same kind that would be offered to a saint or a good woman; it was more the worship offered to an idol, and most women like to be worshipped as idols.
Peter told himself all the sex are alike, and comforted himself with the thought that not one of his companions would recognize Eveline. But Peter took a sore heart back to his inn.
In the hall he met the abbé, and asked him, "When are we going back?"
"Are you weary of Vienna, Peter?"
"I am."
"Have a little patience. To-morrow we must pay a visit to a charming lady."
"What have we to do with charming ladies?"
"Don't ask the why or the wherefore. If we want to attain our end we must leave no means untried. We must beg this lady to interest herself for us. One word from her to his excellency the minister will do more than if we said a whole litany."