“No; the stage manager said she had not come, and he is wild because her tableau follows mine.” Evelyn came a little nearer and lowered her voice, a needless precaution as the noise about them, added to the playing of the Marine Band, made it almost impossible to hear even a shout. Maynard would not have understood her but for his ability to read lips.
“Have you seen René La Montagne?”
“Not yet,” he shouted and she whitened under her make-up.
There was no opportunity to question him further as the stage manager demanded her presence. Maynard lent his aid in arranging her tableau which represented Belgium, and assisted in lashing her to the wheel of the gun carriage. It was a very effective tableau. Evelyn half knelt, half crouched against the wheel, and raised her eyes at the stage manager’s husky command and gazed in despair ahead of her, the hushed audience nowhere in sight as her mental vision conjured up her gallant French lover in the toils of circumstantial evidence.
Maynard halted near one of the wings out of sight of the audience to watch the tableau. A sudden draught of cold air caused him to look around and he saw Marian Van Ness just emerging from the circular staircase, which gave access not only to the dressing rooms under the stage, but to the stage door opening upon the alley. Marian did not pause until she reached the wing where he was standing, and he forbore to address her, noting her absorption in the tableau.
“And what does Jeanne d’Arc think of modern Belgium?” he inquired a few minutes later.
Marian started violently at sound of his voice.
“Jeanne’s mantle has fallen on the women and men of Belgium,” she answered readily, but her hand tightened its grasp on the sword she carried. “How lovely Evelyn is to-night.”
“Yes.” Maynard, who had drawn nearer to let a stage hand pass, made her a courtly bow. “Congratulations on your costume. You have carried out every detail of the celebrated picture of the Maid of Orleans.”
“Thanks.” Under the armor she wore, Marian’s heart beat faster as she caught the fascination of his eyes, and the soft cadence of his alluring voice. “Evelyn is having great applause. Ah! the tableau is over.”